Sacrifice
by woopiedoo-7
Summary: Carlisle had always intended Rosalie for Edward as a soulmate. So, when she was changed, Edward accepted her and they have now been together for two years. Their lives are miserable - that is, until Edward sees an angelic young woman one night.
1. Accident

"Edward, have you seen my ribbon?" Rosalie's voice came from upstairs.

I sighed in exasperation, frustrated that I was being distracted from my novel once again.

"No, dear, I haven't," I replied, returning to my book.

I heard Rosalie sigh and in seconds she was in front of me looking severely agitated.

"Are you sure you haven't seen it?" she asked again with her eyebrows raised. When I assured her that I had not, she gave a small growl and began searching about the room, flinging objects behind her and creating a trail of mess in her wake.

I tried to block out Rosalie's continuous thoughts of "_Where could it be?" _and _"I could have sworn I had it yesterday…" _and focused on my book, not really reading the dusty pages.

It was 1935. Seventeen years since Carlisle had first changed me. Seventeen years living in a soulless, immortal existence and feeling the weight of perpetual loneliness press down on me with each passing year. Yes, I had Carlisle and Esme to keep me company and play the role of my parents, but I'd always thought there was something else missing; love. Not just platonic, parental love I received from Carlisle and Esme, but real, true love; my soul's – the figurative one, of course – match; the kind of love that Carlisle and Esme shared. After roaming the Earth for seventeen years and finding nothing that even came close to the love I so desired, it was understandable that I immediately accepted the next female to join our coven without any second thoughts.

I searched my memory and recalled that moment two years ago when Rosalie had first become a vampire.

_Is she not a gorgeous young woman, Edward? _Carlisle's voice had floated through my head and drawn me out of my reverie. I'd looked up and seen Rosalie for the first time since she had completed the change. She was appraising herself in a mirror, twisting her head this way and that, trying to get a better view of her hair at the back of her head.

"Yes, I daresay she is," I'd replied quietly, dropping my gaze after the spectacle of Rosalie admiring her features grew insipid. Rosalie was indeed remarkably beautiful, even for a vampire. However, there was a certain air of vanity and tenacity about her, evident in the way she was looking at herself in the mirror now. I could see she was going to be a rather difficult person to live with, and I'd wondered why Carlisle had brought her here to be changed.

"Carlisle," I'd began very quietly, for fear of Rosalie hearing our conversation that was not meant for her ears. Though I'd doubted she would notice anything other than herself at this moment in time. "Why did you bring her here?" It had come out harsher than I'd intended.

Carlisle looked at me and seemed to be thinking hard on how to answer my question. He'd replied carefully through thought: _The poor woman was left bleeding in the street, Edward. I couldn't just let her die there. _Carlisle kept up a continuous rant on why he had chosen to save Rosalie, and, to me, his vehemence seemed a way to hide his true motives.

_And besides, _he continued, voice animated, _I thought she would make a nice friend for you. _I did not miss his emphasis on the word 'friend'.

He then went on to point out all of the good, admirable qualities that Rosalie possessed – the list was rather short – and describing in the most animated language how attractive she was.

It seemed to me that Carlisle's true intentions on bringing Rosalie to be changed were that I would somehow fall in love with her and take her as my soul mate. I laughed mentally and stared at Rosalie, wondering how on Earth I would ever fall in love with such a conceited being as her. I supposed that, in time, I would grow to love her, but something in the back of my mind told me that it would never surpass anything other than sibling love.

While I was musing, out of the corner of my eye I saw Esme go to Carlisle's side and wrap her arms around him, both looking at eachother fondly. Their love, so strong and evident, sent another pang through me and reminded me once again of the very thing I did not possess. How I wished I could find love like that!

I looked back at Rosalie and appraised her again, wondering if I could ever find the love I craved for in her, if she could fill the void that was widening within me with each passing year.

Could Rosalie fill that void?

I had been lonely for seventeen years. Seventeen years of searching and still finding nothing that even came close to true love. I began to think that I would never find anyone, convinced that I was doomed to spend eternity alone and loveless.

But here was Rosalie, a beautiful new vampire, changed with the single intention that she would make a fitting companion for me, by Carlisle himself. I would certainly be a fool if I passed up the chance to avoid eternal solitude.

I looked back at Rosalie and frowned thoughtfully, trying to convince myself that if I didn't seize this opportunity now, then I would surely never get another one for a long time, if not ever. I asked myself the same question I had before.

_Could Rosalie fill that void? _

I repeated my affirmations once more in my mind.

Yes. Yes she could.

"Edward?"

Carlisle's voice snapped me out of my reminiscing. I looked up and saw Carlisle standing in front of me, suitcase in hand and dressed for work. He looked at me with gentle eyes, a faint smile playing around the edges of his lips. I closed my book, slightly embarrassed.

"Oh, sorry, Carlisle," I mumbled, clearing my throat. "I didn't notice you were there."

Carlisle chuckled and said, "It's alright Edward. I was just here to tell you that I'm going to open up shop, and I expect you there in a couple of hours."

I nodded silently and bid farewell to Carlisle as he exited the house.

Carlisle had been working at the local medical clinic for quite a while now, and almost as soon as he'd got the job, offered me a place at the store alongside him. I accepted the job immediately, hoping it would give me some sort of relief from the surprisingly dull and quite loveless relationship I was in with Rosalie. My plan succeeded for a while; I would sit there every day, dealing with customers at the cash register and enjoying the general buzz and frivolity of the town. Over time, however, the task became boring and I found myself spending more and more time out hunting and exploring the town than at the clinic.

Whether it was to escape my profession or the reality of my situation with Rosalie, I did not know.

Realizing suddenly that Rosalie was summoning me from another room; I stood quickly and abandoned my book, walking rapidly in the direction of her voice. I found her in the kitchen where Esme was also seated reading the newspaper with a slight frown. She looked up as I approached and gave me a warm smile, before returning to her reading.

"What is it, Rosalie?" I asked.

Her head was inside a cupboard, her hands flying in and out as she searched for her lost ribbon. She ducked her head out when she heard my voice and fixed me with a frantic look. There were patches of some brown, unknown substance throughout her hair.

"I can't find it!" she cried, her voice cross between a hysterical shrill and a wail of despair. Her eyebrows remained raised and worried as she rose gracefully, picking at the mess in her hair and grimacing.

"Will you help me find it?" she pleaded. I nodded with a rather uninterested 'okay'.

We searched the house for what seemed like hours, going over every surface twice. After disrupting the general order of the house completely, disturbing Esme from her reading and still finding nothing, Rosalie made a noise akin to a whining child, and begged me to buy a new one for her when I was in town later this afternoon.

I agreed, if only to appease her. I knew I would never hear the end of it if I refused. Rosalie was content, but desired I go immediately for fear of another person buying it and there being nothing left for her. To this I said no. I told her I would go when it was time for me to meet Carlisle, and promised to buy her precious ribbon afterwards. She grumbled, but acquiesced.

I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw Rosalie disappear upstairs, and made my way out of the kitchen into the living room. I returned my book to the shelf, searching for a different, more interesting volume. I could not focus properly, however, as my mind was consumed with thoughts of my relationship with Rosalie.

I kicked myself mentally for what seemed like the millionth time this decade for ever accepting Rosalie as my eternal partner. Though I had convinced myself firmly that she would be able to provide me with the love I desired, even then I knew, deep down, that it was highly unlikely – even impossible. My doubts were confirmed more and more as each year passed. I possessed nothing more than sibling love for Rosalie, and was sure that no matter how many years passed, it would never amount to anything more.

Whether Rosalie knew of my indifference was an entirely different matter. She had never been extremely affectionate with me, but still not shown any indication that she knew I didn't really love her. She went about her days as usual, completely oblivious to my lack of sentiment or affection towards her. Either that or she chose not to believe I did not love her.

As time passed a certain understanding arose between us. It was unspoken, never insinuated in general conversation, but somehow we both knew. It was the realization – if not fact – that we were not really destined to be together as anything more than adoptive brother and sister. That what we were experiencing was not true love, and never would be.

Where _I_ had come to the complete understanding of these facts, Rosalie still seemed to hold onto the illusion that I was in love with her; still hoping that somehow, someday, I would come to my senses and accept her as my companion for the rest of forever. It was this belief that Rosalie had that kept me from breaking the truth to her completely; aloud. Selfish though I was for being with her purely out of loneliness, I told myself that I would not break her heart anymore than I presumably had.

It was the least I could do after ruining both of our lives so elaborately. I would sacrifice my own happiness for the sake of hers – regardless of how false her happiness was.

If only to appease her.

I kicked myself mentally again and, after searching for a new volume was fruitless, selected one of my old favourites that I had read countless times. I went back to my armchair, ensured that I was comfortable and started the first chapter. I was determined to think of this book and nothing else. I would not allow myself to drift onto thoughts of Rosalie again, for the sake of my own sanity. Sighing, I tried once again to focus – and failed.

_____________________________**************____________________________

It was nearing the evening when my shift was over and I exited the medical clinic. I made my way through the busy streets, thankful to be out of the stifling temperatures of the clinic. The paths were dusty and covered in litter, and the slightest breeze made everything swirl around my ankles in a whirlwind of waste. The streets were almost deserted, with very few people roaming the streets at this time of night; most had hurried home before sunset. I weaved my way through the maze of carts and stalls, walking south in the direction of the ribbon store on the outskirts of town.

Customers had been scarce today, unusual for a town of this size and population. Usually I would be grateful for the small numbers, but today I would have given anything to have the distraction of the townsfolk. My thoughts constantly bombarded me and gave me no moment of peace, even though each time they did I pushed them out forcefully. Still, they found a way to seep back into my mind and plague me with guilt about my current relationship with Rosalie – which didn't exactly do wonders for my sanity.

Incensed now, I tried to cease dwelling on Rosalie and focus on getting to the ribbon store. I quickened my pace slightly, and fought the urge to break into an inhuman sprint.

I finally reached the store and opened the door, a bell tinkling somewhere above me. The owner, a bright, amiable woman of forty greeted me as soon as I entered.

"Evening, Edward!" she said cheerfully, flashing a wide smile. I couldn't help but smile in response.

"Hello, Darla," I replied, and inclined my head. Darla smiled wider.

"Looking for anything in particular?" she asked kindly.

I leaned so I was closer to the counter and produced a slip of paper from inside my jacket pocket.

"Just this."

Darla fished her big, round spectacles from her bag and put them on, squinting in the light to read Rosalie's elegant script. I fought back a chuckle as I watched her try to read the paper. Darla Harris in thick, round spectacles always reminded me of an overweight dragonfly.

"Ah," she said quietly after finally making out the tiny words. "Another errand from Rosalie, I see."

I nodded. Darla took the paper with her as she went to the many shelves stacked to the top with ribbons behind the counter. She ran her fingers along the shelves, searching and making small talk with me while she did.

"And how is Rosalie, Edward?" Darla asked from within the labyrinth of ribbon shelves. He voice rang out through the store as she raised her voice – though I could hear every word perfectly.

"She is well, thankyou," I replied louder than usual, so she could hear. Darla nodded just as she found what she was looking for, and with a flurry of exclamations, extracted the thin strip very carefully. She made her way back to the counter and began to wrap the ribbon in brown paper for me to take home.

"Still gorgeous as ever?" she asked again with a laugh. I nodded.

"She is." At least that was one thing about our relationship I did not have to lie about.

Darla laughed again – a bright, shrill laugh – and finished wrapping. I handed her the money and she began the transaction, humming to herself.

"You hang onto her, Edward," Darla said, half singing, half serious, as she handed me my change. "Any young man would be lucky to have her."

I only nodded, my smile fading.

Darla waved me out of the shop with a merry farewell. I exited the store, the bell ringing again, and started walking back in the direction I had come. I was about thirty metres away from the medical clinic where I worked, when I saw her.

Walking in my direction with her head bent towards the ground slightly, white dress flapping around her ankles, was the most heavenly beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life. Rosalie was stunning, to be sure, but her beauty significantly paled next to this wonderful stranger. The woman, who looked about my age or possibly older, had soft, long hair that fell around her shoulders and was a lovely chocolate brown – the exact colour of her eyes. It contrasted spectacularly with her ivory skin and angular features. Her full, red lips were parted slightly into a look of pleasant tranquillity and relief. She was looking down at the object in her hand. I followed her gaze and was slightly astonished when I saw that she was holding a brown paper bag from where I worked at the medical clinic, the symbol on the front bulging outwards in the shape of a little bottle.

My mouth hung open slightly as I stared at the unknown beauty, marvelling at her splendour. I had ceased to breathe, literally a stone statue, frozen in the middle of the street. The wind changed directions abruptly, blowing strands of my hair into my face, and I sucked in a breath.

The most repulsive, stomach churning scent suddenly hit me as I breathed in. I coughed and spluttered, a hand at my throat as I gagged; one would think I had just eaten human food. I wondered why the gorgeous stranger had not been affected by the stench that was so pungent in the air now. It was a horrid odour, like rotten eggs and smelly socks and wet dog all mixed into one – only worse. I stood there, the smell having broken me from my trance-like state, and tried not to breathe as the disgusting stench swirled around me as the woman got closer. And then it hit me.

_Wet dog._

Something familiar stirred in the back of my mind, like a light switch had just been thrown on. I stopped my choking and tried to focus on what was so significant about the smell. My mind pieced the puzzle together, working furiously to solve the riddle before the angel came too close. Another light switch flicked on suddenly, and I realised.

That smell, so vile and repugnant, one that had been familiar to me the whole time – only evident when the beautiful woman had come near. I hadn't smelt anything while I was in the ribbon store, or while I had finished my shift for that matter. Only evident when she was near…

Could it be that this ethereally beautiful, seraphic, mysterious creature was the source of the stench? My logic and reasoning nodded feverishly.

I drew myself out of my thoughts and back into reality, and saw that she stranger was nearing me with every step, the smell becoming even stronger with each step she took towards me. Gagging and suddenly very self-conscious, I ducked into an alleyway just as she lifted her head. I pressed my body against the wall so that I was flat and stoped breathing; consequently, the smell was not so bad when I was not breathing. I listened to her rhythmic footfalls get louder and louder, until she finally passed the alleyway in which I was hiding. I stood, motionless, against the wall and waited for her to pass, the smell increasing to such a horrible climax when she did that I nearly fell to the ground.

When she had walked a safe enough distance away that I would not be overcome by the smell, I poked my head around the corner and watched her back that was slowly retreating with my excellent sense of sight. I pondered on why such a stunning creature would smell so _bad _– and yet so familiar. And then the dog reference came rushing back to me. I withdrew my head from round the side of the alleyway and stared at the blank brick opposite me, utterly shocked.

_Werewolf._

Only a werewolf could smell so awful. Only a werewolf could instil such revulsion and, yet, familiarity in my mind. Yes…yes, it was all coming together now.

The hauntingly beautiful stranger, the epitome of loveliness – was a werewolf. Hence the smell.

I poked my head around the corner again and watched her go, her figure still not so far away that my vampire sight did not work. For a reason I did not know nor could understand, I felt sad. I understood depression well – living for two years in a loveless relationship had certainly had its effects – and so I instantly recognised the familiar ache course through me, the stabbing pain in my lifeless heart, and the twinge of strange annoyance; all associated with depression. I stared at the stranger's back and thought, with a mental sigh, what a _waste _it was. What a waste for this dazzling female to be a werewolf; for her to be the very thing I knew I could never be affiliated with.

A sharp stab of guilt pierced me as I thought of Rosalie. Rosalie, waiting at home for her precious ribbon and I, wondering where on Earth I could have gotten to. The guilt increased as I thought of the instantaneous attraction I had felt towards the stunning stranger. Albeit she was a werewolf – and this factor only made the guilt even worse – she had made me feel more alive than I had felt in seventeen years. I had merely seen her walking through town, and yet I would have sworn my heart momentarily restarted as soon as I glimpsed her deep, brown eyes. The guilt dug deeper into me like a knife, and I was instantly overcome by a wave of self-loathing.

How horrid I was for thinking of another woman – and a _werewolf_, for God's sake – when I was with Rosalie. Even though there was clearly no love in our relationship, I'd still been more attracted to that unknown woman that I had ever been to Rosalie; my _mate. _And I didn't even know her.

I sighed again as I remembered that the stranger was a werewolf. A werewolf. Off limits, no man's land – _forbidden_. I sighed again.

What a waste.


	2. Wolfsbane

Rosalie had been exceptionally thrilled that I had returned home safely with her ribbon, and took it eagerly from my hands as soon as I'd crossed the threshold into the house. She had ripped the paper off with fervour and appraised the thin strip with wide eyes. After she had deemed it worthy, she gave another wide, excited smile and placed a single kiss upon my cheek, before running upstairs in a flash.

Even now, early morning the next day, my cheek still burned from where she had kissed it.

Burnt, not because her lips were hot – they were far, far from it as any vampire's were – but because I knew, deep down, I did not really deserve her affections. I wished I could bring myself to return the gesture, but at that moment in time the image of the angelic werewolf had come to mind, and so I had only flashed a wane smile.

I kicked myself mentally afterwards.

It was around ten in the morning, and I was sitting on my bed, cross legged, trying very hard to focus on my book and failing spectacularly. My thoughts just would not cease. Whether they were torturing me with images of the glorious stranger or with constant stabs of guilt for my mental infidelity towards Rosalie, they simply would not _go away. _I had muttered angrily when they had been at their worst and tried to immerse myself in a book, though my efforts were in vain. No matter what I did, they would always manage to seep through the cracks I had not sufficiently covered with some sort of distraction, and plague me incessantly.

It was like that now.

Swearing under my breath for what seemed like the millionth time today, I tried to push my thoughts to the back of my mind and focus on my book – my distraction. I got a good four chapters into it when my thoughts came back for another visit. This time they were not so focused on making me feel guilty about thinking about a werewolf when I was with Rosalie – on the contrary, they sent image after image after image of the glorious unknown woman I had seen last night. Making me insane, torturing me.

Tempting me.

No. _No. _She was a werewolf. I was a vampire. I was with Rosalie. _Think of Rosalie, _I thought over and over, trying to stop thinking about the beauty I had seen before. I groaned at the futility of the task, and flung my book aside a little too fiercely; it slammed into the wall and I heard the spine break. I buried my face in my hands, thinking this situation could not possibly become any worse – and then it did. I groaned again.

I was due at the medical clinic at eleven; a task I dreaded under normal circumstances. Returning to town, and especially the medical clinic, promised a plethora of obnoxious customers, perpetual boredom – and the risk of seeing the beautiful werewolf again. I was not sure how I would react if I saw her again, but considering what had happened last night, I was sure it could not be good. The possibility of seeing the gorgeous werewolf for a second time made my stomach churn and I tried to push it out of my mind. It was so horrible.

And yet so appealing.

I kicked myself mentally – harder this time, and groaned again.

I sighed heavily and was about to go and retrieve my tattered novel, when someone knocked softly on my door.

"Come in," I answered automatically. My voice was miserable.

The door swung open and Rosalie entered, a wrench in hand and clad in overalls. It could mean only one thing.

"Edward, will you come help me?" she asked, one hand on her hip, the other swinging the wrench absently from side to side.

I rose from the bed.

"Help you with what?" I asked warily, painfully aware of how harsh my voice sounded. I tried to soften my eyes as I looked at Rosalie.

"My car is acting up again. I'll need someone to hold it up while I fix the broken part," she replied, as if it was obvious.

"Will you help me?" she repeated, hopeful.

I couldn't say no.

"Excellent!" she exclaimed when I agreed, and she turned swiftly, walking towards the door.

"Oh, by the way," she began, whirling around to face me again, "Carlisle says he's gone to the medical clinic and he expects you to be prompt and there by eleven." She did not wait for my response before turning back around and running down the stairs.

"I can't wait," I murmured sarcastically, and followed her reluctantly down the stairs.

I followed Rosalie's instructions and lifted the car easily with one hand, holding it steady while she worked at the broken part. We were mostly silent apart from an occasional instruction from Rosalie or comment about the weather, and for this I was glad. I was comfortable enough to be with Rosalie and not feel the need to fill every silence with chatter, and I knew that she, too, felt the same way. Like true brother and sister.

And that's all we ever would be.

It was nearing half past ten when Rosalie finally finished fixing her car. Wiping grease off her face and onto her overalls, she offered timidly if I would like her to take a look at my own car. I was slightly taken aback by the sudden selfless gesture, but concurred nonetheless and let her work on my vehicle. We stood in silence for a while, the only sound coming from the tinkering of car parts and tools, when Rosalie spoke.

"Edward?" Her voice was rather whiny.

"Hmm?" I did not register her speaking until she had prompted me a few more times, and I snapped out of my reverie.

"Edward, may I go and hunt? I'm starting to get rather thirsty," she asked, setting her tool down with a clatter and staring at me.

It seemed pointless to stop fixing the car to go and hunt, when I knew for a fact that Rosalie had hunted but two days ago. I refused politely.

"But Edward–" Rosalie began.

"Please, Rose, just for a little bit more. It's almost finished, and after I'm gone you can hunt all you want. Please," I countered.

Rosalie grumbled but agreed.

When she had finished working she stood and wiped grease from her forehead, wrinkling her nose as she did. I thanked her vehemently for fixing my car, and she in turn thanked me for helping her. A brief, awkward hug ensued, and we both looked odd and uncomfortable afterwards. Thankfully, I chose this moment to remember the time, and that I had to be at the medical clinic in five minutes. I made sure I had all of my things, thanked Rosalie again and, after much deliberation, gave her a single kiss on the cheek. The corners of my lips twitched into what I hoped looked like a smile, and then I turned abruptly and ran.

I wondered if _her_ cheek burned now, too.

I ran out of the small garage and onto the dirt trail that led to the town, scenery rushing past in a whirl of colour. I ran until I reached the outskirts of the town – which took about thirty seconds – and slowed to a normal, human pace; I simply could not risk exposure. I walked a little faster than normal as I was very late for work, hands shoved deep into my coat pockets, trying to get to the clinic quickly and immerse myself in the town – distract myself.

As soon as I reached the outskirts of town I was overcome by the many familiar sights and smells of the place. The dusty streets were filled with the local townsfolk; most were trudging through the city on their way to work, others standing in the middle of the traffic and conversing idly with a friend. Several carts and stalls were scattered throughout the town, the owners shouting their wares to no one in particular. Mischievous children ran through the maze of people, often disturbing others as they fled from their pursuing parents, giggling all the while.

I reached the main street and joined the throng, allowing myself to be swept along with the rest of the work-going crowd. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at the stench of all the hot, sweaty humans pressed up on all sides of me. We traipsed in unison, all silently eager to reach our destinations and escape the claustrophobic nature of the outside world, and engross ourselves in our work. Me more than anyone.

A gust of wind blew suddenly and wafted the disgusting odour towards me; it was even more pungent in my nostrils now. I felt a sickening jolt in my stomach when I realised I wished it to be the smell of a werewolf – and an even more nauseating feeling when I realised it wasn't.

I kicked myself. Again.

Recognising the small sign above the medical clinic that deemed it to be so, I extracted myself from the mass and crossed to the other side of the street. I opened the door – the bell tinkled above me – and made my way to the "Staff Only" door that led to behind the counter.

_You're late, Edward. _Carlisle's voice came to me and I instantly felt a stab of guilt.

"I know, I'm sorry. I was with Rosalie and I guess I just lost track of the time…" I trailed off but I knew Carlisle could hear me.

_It's alright, Edward; just make sure you're punctual next time._

I promised I would be and made my way to the counter, taking my usual perch on a spindly legged chair, and waited for customers.

I did not wait for long. I was but a half hour into my shift when the regulars came in, brandishing their prescriptions and demanding, in the most irritated and impolite manner, that I make haste and not keep them waiting. I would dearly have loved to refuse and throw their bits of paper right back in their face; as this was out of the question I had no choice but to comply and plaster a smile on my face.

Next came Mrs. Houston and her three obnoxious offspring. Muttering something about the government and the "damned flu that's been going around", she thrust the prescription into my hand and begged that I be quick, before resuming screaming at her children. I came back with her medicine and she thanked me vehemently, dragging her sons out of the store with her. I could still hear their whining now.

As soon as she had gone the smile instantly faded from my face, and I resumed my stoic expression, resting my chin on my hand and dreading the next customer to enter the clinic, and the effort it would take me to constantly seem happy and smiling.

Moments of peace and quiet like these were seldom seen, so I eagerly took advantage of them. The insufferable customers had given me quite a headache, so I pressed my fingers to my temples and tried to soothe the pain. The throbbing subsided after a while and I was now free to let my mind wander onto different trains of thought, let it daydream – the only kind I was afforded as a vampire.

My thoughts eventually drifted onto Rosalie, and when they did I stopped them in their tracks. I refused to be encumbered with the ever present knowledge that I was thinking of another woman besides Rosalie – a werewolf, to make it worse – and let it distract me from my job. My conscience allowed me this luxury – only to replace it with images of the beautiful werewolf immediately afterwards. I kicked myself mentally, again and again, and still had an expression of internal torture on my face when the bell suddenly rang out through the store, signalling the next customer's arrival. I snapped out of my abstractions and hastily made an abysmal attempt at a smile.

_____________________________**************____________________________

I had just entered the last quarter of my shift, and by this time I was ready to rip that damned bell off its hinges. Customers had been flowing in and out of the store so frequently that the chiming of the bell had become a continuous hum. This being the case, my smile had to be permanently stuck on my face – a prospect that both terrified and annoyed me.

The townsfolk had not helped with my mood. They complained loudly about the queue, screaming at eachother to hurry up and stop dawdling. When they had exhausted this task, they directed their anger upon me and kept up an endless tirade of how awful my service was and grumbling about how much time they were wasting waiting for their medicine when they could be off doing better things. I had muttered under my breath that I would desire nothing more than to have them leave the clinic and be off on their way to more productive endeavours, but of course they could not hear me.

I had breathed a sigh of profound relief when they had all left, and had now resumed my previous state of torturous boredom. I had forgotten to bring my novel along with me, so all I could really do was sit and watch the second hand of the clock tick by at a snail's pace. I sighed and checked again how much time I had left of my shift – now edging towards two hours - , thinking this situation could not possibly become any worse. I amused myself for the next few minutes by contemplating whether to take a break and go hunt, when I was suddenly obligated to smile again.

The bell rang.

Cursing the object to the depths of Hell, I reluctantly lifted my chin from its resting place on my hand and forced a smile, raising my head to see the next customer. I blinked a few times to focus my eyes and opened my mouth to greet the patron – but no words came.

I froze.

Striding in to the medical clinic, hair windblown and about her face, with a most curious expression of annoyance and relief colouring her features, the gorgeous werewolf that I had been dreading – and, yes, _hoping for_ – approached the counter, prescription already in hand. She had the same aura and scent of werewolf which nearly knocked me over with its foulness, but it was not as strong this time. It had a different, headier odour that stood out from all the rest of it. It was a delicious mix of floral and sweet, freesia and honey; my mouth sill hung open and her scent wafted towards me, entering my mouth and nostrils and generating a wild dance of sweet and sour upon my tongue. I felt venom rise in my throat in spite of myself.

She continued to advance and I had not said a word yet. I realised I was watching – very intently at that – her lips for any sign that she was going to speak. The corners quirked upwards into a half-smile and I vaguely recognised my own mirroring hers. She drew nearer and nearer to the counter and I began to panic, hoping against hope that she would not speak; for if she did I knew I would simply remain expressionless and pathetic behind this counter, not knowing what to say. I would frighten her, surely. Frantically, I tried to read her thoughts and divulge if she was going to speak or not, but felt my mind instantly hit a wall. I could not read her thoughts – which had never happened to me with anyone before – and I felt my panic rise dramatically as I registered this fact.

The anonymous werewolf closed the space between, and held her prescription at her side, ready to present it to me. I hastily snapped out of the stupor she had me under, and rearranged my features into the accustomed smile.

"H-hello," I mumbled stupidly, blinking a few times to regain my equanimity.

To my immense surprise, I heard the stranger's heartbeat increase rapidly, and my ears vaguely registered her sucking in a breath before she spoke.

"Hello," she replied. Oh, it was a chorus of angels, I would swear by it. I smiled at the gloriousness of her voice and simultaneously felt another pang of disgust and regret. But my smile did not falter; if anything it became more genuine. She did not notice my internal battle, however, continued in the same wonderful voice. "Um…here's my prescription."

She extended her hand – hesitantly, it seemed – and it took me a moment to realise what was going on. I had been preoccupied with partly marvelling at the utter perfection of the unknown werewolf, partly kicking myself for even _thinking _of the werewolf as perfect, and I now struggled to respond to her without seeming like I was mentally incompetent.

"Right, sorry," I said quickly, blinking again and taking the slip of paper from her hand. Our skin connected – a positively euphoric experience – and I felt her recoil ever so slightly as my icy hands touched her own.

I felt her curious stare on me as I retreated to the back room to fetch her medicine. It felt pleasant to be in the clean, air conditioned room – it helped me clear my head of the disgusting werewolf smell. I felt another horrid pang when it also got rid of the floral smell and I was miserable.

I returned with the little bottle of pills – identical to the one I had seen her carrying in the bag last night – and was greeted with the frantic stammering of her heart as soon as I entered. I could not respond in this way – I was dead, of course – but I felt my lips twitch into a smile automatically.

"Here you go," I said, holding out the pills to her. She took them from me and our skin connected again – she did not recoil this time.

She handed me the money and I, her change, and she gave me another smile. I was sure that if I were human my palms would be sweaty and my heart an irregular thumping and my sentences a jumbled mass right about now, disclosing my current state of anxiety and – yes, I dare say it – infatuation. As I was not human I was able to keep some sort of calm in the situation and prevent myself from making awkward statements in her presence. I smiled back at her.

She slipped the pills into her bag and flashed a tentative smile at me. Turning to leave, she whispered, "Thankyou, Edward."

I felt a ripple of shock and pleasure flow through me when she said my name. I froze, utterly speechless, my thoughts a frantic buzz. I admit a curious sort of warmth had been generated when she'd said my name, but that did nothing to quell my absolute shock at her knowing my name. Thousands of questions sprung up in my mind; how had she known my name? Where did she learn it? Did I know the person she heard it from? Were they friend or enemy? I began to get a headache, so I quickly snapped out of my daze and stopped her before she exited the store.

"Wait!" I cried desperately, holding out a hand. She whirled around, eyes bright and expectant. "How…how did you know my name?" I was quieter this time.

The werewolf grinned and took a few steps forward. She pointed to my chest.

"Your name tag."

I followed her finger and looked down at the rectangular badge that read "EDWARD" in dark blue letters. I groaned mentally at how very stupid I looked then, and was sure that, if it were possible, I would be blushing right about now.

"Oh," I said, exhaling and smiling.

She responded with an equal degree of mirth, and several seconds of rather uncomfortable silence followed. I realised how much I loved talking to her, hearing her voice, and I was now frantically trying to find something to say that would obligate her to stay for a while longer and converse with me. But it was she who spoke next.

"I'm so sorry, I've forgotten my manners," she said, raising a hand to her heart and smiling. "My name is Isabella, but everyone calls me Bella."

I smiled and extended a hand.

"It's a pleasure. Edward Cullen," I replied, inclining my head. We shook hands and I felt that same rush of euphoria as I clasped her hand.

_Bella…_the name sounded rather familiar but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. I shrugged it off and thought how positively lovely her name was. It was the name of an angel, some divine being that made others weak at the knees just by thinking of it – a goddess.

I was about to scold myself for thinking such things about the werewolf, but Bella spoke before I had the chance.

"So, how…how long have you worked here?" she asked timidly, as if she were afraid of speaking to me. Either that or she just did not know what to say and was making an awkward attempt at conversation. I sincerely hoped it was not the first.

"Almost a year, I think," I replied, searching my memory. "My father offered me a job here once he started working here."

Recognition and awareness brightened her already twinkling brown eyes. She seemed to be reminiscing, and a second later she smiled and fixed me with an inquisitive look.

"Your father…he is Dr. Carlisle Cullen?" She spoke slowly, the inflection at the end of the sentence more pronounced from her uncertainty.

I blinked, surprised. She knew Carlisle? I kicked myself for not asking him about her when I had first seen Bella last night. I was about to answer when a wave of panic struck. If she knew my father, how many more of my family members did she know? Did she know Esme? My panic became stronger as I considered the consequences of her being acquainted with Rosalie. Oh, God forbid…

"Yes," I replied quickly, still surprised. I hesitated, wondering how to form my question. I began slowly, "How–?"

"I've met him a few times before, and he is well acquainted with my father; he's the town sheriff, you see." Bella interjected, but I was not offended. I had stood still and silent throughout her speech, staring at her fair face with a mixture of wonder and pleasure. The mention of her father rang a bell, but it was a while before I could regain awareness and speak.

I frowned thoughtfully and looked downwards.

"Daughter of the sheriff…" I mused, a smile touching my lips. I tried to remember why that was so significant to me. My eyes flickered back to Bella and my smile widened. "…so you are Bella–?"

"Swan," she interrupted again. Her eyes had widened into a look of mild panic and her lips were pursed. Her pronunciation of the word was firm – a little too firm, one might say. "_Swan._ Isabella Swan." She had taken several steps forward as she stressed her point.

I only nodded. It would be terribly impolite of me to ask why she was stressing her last name so much – I, a stranger who barely knew her. So I continued to stare at her face, raking my eyes over her features and her long hair that was pulled to the side by a red ribbon. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew I was going to Hell – if there even _was _a Hell for vampires – for this entire conversation and thoughts about the woman. The _werewolf. _The shop bell tinkled again and I saw through my peripheral vision a large, bearded man cross the threshold into the clinic and stand behind Bella, looking very impatient. Clearly he was not going to enjoy waiting in line for me to finish, but right now I was not concerned with this man's plights.

I barely noticed his thoughts of _"When the hell is this woman going to leave?" _and _"I swear the service in this place is absolutely ridiculous…",_ for I was too engrossed in the spectacle in front of me. Fearing suddenly that Bella would feel the need to leave and allow other customers to acquire service, I hurriedly thought of a new inquiry.

"Do you live near town?" I asked quickly; so quickly, in fact, that I wondered if she had caught it. But her wide, chocolate eyes held no confusion.

"No, I live some miles away, very close to Harvisham."

I nodded. Harvisham, I knew, was the other town several miles away from this one. It was a quaint, less populated town composed mainly of brick and wood; contrary to the grey stone slabs and dirty, sandy streets that made up this one. I wondered why she did not visit that town, as it was closer to where she lived and certainly within walking distance.

"And…do you…visit this town often?" My inflection rang with hesitancy and hope. I realised that I sincerely wanted her to visit this town often – much more than I should.

"Oh, yes," she replied slowly, emphasising each syllable. She nodded. "Yes, very often." It seemed to me – though I was surely just being delusional – that she was trying to reassure me. But no, that would be ludicrous…impossible…

I nodded, unable to do anything else. Profound relief coursed through me at her affirmation that she would be coming back to town very soon, and I felt an automatic grin spread across my face.

Now that that weight had been lifted off my shoulders, I focused my attention on the little bottle of pills I knew she held in her purse. I wanted to know everything about her – even the minutest of details would fascinate me, I was sure. I recalled the name on her prescription and – through careful observation of Carlisle's medical books – knew that it was a very powerful herb, ground into pills and used only for the most extreme illnesses. I suddenly feared greatly for her health.

I began, very awkwardly and nervously, "Forgive me, I know this is very untoward, but" – the customer that was waiting behind Bella began to get even more restless – "the pills…is there something the matter? I only ask because the medicine is quite strong and something of that magnitude would have to be taken rather frequently and only for very severe illnesses, and…well…I–"

I could hear myself rambling – a very odd circumstance for I was always composed – but I did not stop myself. I looked down at the ground, embarrassed.

I could hear Bella laughing quietly at my discomfiture. I looked up and saw her smiling – something that could have restarted my heart – at me with a twinkle in her eye.

Her smile fading slightly, she said, quietly, "Oh no, the pills aren't for me. They're for my husband."

And with that, she flashed one, last, timid smile, nodded in farewell, and departed; the bell tinkled and signalled her exit.

The customer sighed in exasperation and shuffled towards the counter, frowning. He presented his prescription and began talking of different illnesses he thought he had and medicines he thought would be better than the one he had been given – but I wasn't listening. I felt disappointment grasp me in its cold, hard, clutches and crush my will. I vaguely recognised my sense of hearing shut down and my awareness of everything else go with it. For some odd reason, the phrase _"the customer is always right" _sprung up in my mind, and I let my eyes wander over onto the chubby face of the bearded man in front of me. I absent-mindedly began his transaction.

I didn't even try to smile.


	3. Necklace

That Bella having a husband had not deterred me in the least from going to work in the sole hope of seeing her again surprised me more than I could ever say. Upon hearing that Bella's heart was bestowed to another man _was_ disappointing – or perhaps it was depressing-to-the-point-of-suicide? – of course, but it was not enough to stop me from going to work everyday. If anything, it made me more eager than ever to go to town and see her again. Why, I was not entirely sure, but I did have a vague inkling of the reason; either I merely enjoyed her company, talking, laughing and so forth – or I was convinced that I could somehow gain her affections and dissuade her from her husband.

Something within me indicated that it was a little of both.

However, all motives and agendas aside, the point of the matter, really, was that I simply adored her. I truly did. I adored everything about her, from the biggest details to the smallest. The way she bit her lip slightly whenever there was an awkward moment; her glorious peal of laughter that rang throughout the store and automatically brought a smile to my face; the way she kept her hands loosely clasped together in front of her whenever she spoke; her smile.

Especially her smile.

My growing infatuation with the woman – _the werewolf, _my conscience would say over and over reproachfully – had had a considerable effect on my mood, above all things. Not only was I more enthusiastic about my job, which had previously served only as a distraction, but I was happy. For the first time in all my years, both mortal and immortal, I was truly happy.

And so alive! Of course I was not in the literal sense of the word, but in all other circumstances I was. Every day I was so eager to get to work and see Bella that I was nearly bouncing off the walls. I would walk so quickly to town out of impatience and excitement that I sometimes feared I had exposed our species. I was so enthused about everything and almost always had a grin on my face since I had met Bella that it never went unnoticed. Carlisle, Esme – they especially had detected my new outlook on everything, and my improved mood, commenting on the latter in particular frequently.

Rosalie, however, did not seem to have noticed anything. A curious circumstance, since she was always very observant. I would come home every night after work and be practically shaking with happiness, greeting her in a most cheerful manner – but she still did not appear to notice anything. She would simply greet me as usual and retreat upstairs to her room and busy herself with other endeavours.

I knew I should be gladdened that she had not noticed anything or attributed my good mood to the work of Bella, but I could not. If anything, her silence and relative stoicism hinted at a greater, more profound knowledge. I, of course, had tried to read her mind and divulge whether she knew about Bella or not, but whenever I did I learnt nothing. She would always be thinking about something trivial, like ribbons or hunting or the weather or a book she had recently finished reading. And again, there was something mysterious and unsettling about her apparent lack of knowledge or suspicion. I was convinced there was more to what she knew than what she was letting on, and, to me, her silence was a clear indication of this.

So my farewell to her before I set off for work at ten o' clock on a chilly December morning was rather hesitant. As if she would suddenly jump up and shriek and announce my infidelity with a shaking finger pointing in my direction.

"I'll see you later, Rose," I said, my cheer dampened. I tentatively leaned forward and placed a single kiss on her cheek. My lips burned and I felt strange, as I always did whenever I showed this sort of affection towards Rosalie. Rosalie turned her head slightly and murmured a quick farewell before returning to her business, same as always. There wasn't anything that was done out of the ordinary or routine at all, nothing on Rosalie's part that indicated she suspected anything.

And yet there was.

Deciding after a while that there was nothing I could do for the moment about it, I exited the house, called a hasty farewell to my parents, and set off on the trail towards town, resisting the urge to run. As I walked, - the dust and sand swirling around my ankles and bringing a plethora of scents to my attention – I mused. At first I focused my thoughts on Rosalie and what she could possibly know about my acquaintance with Bella, and how she could know. But these thoughts proved dangerous and unsettling, as they often led me to believe Rosalie had obtained the information through immoral and unreasonable means. So I pushed them away and turned to the one thing I knew could lift my mood and make me smile without question, any time.

Bella.

Over the past few days we had, I flatter myself, become very good friends. She would come in every day to the medical clinic and buy medicine, always staying to converse with me a good hour after her purchase; sometimes more. We would just stand there and talk endlessly, sometimes about the most inane of topics, and enjoy each other's company, Bella only leaving when customers started to complain about the lack of attention I was giving them. And when she left it seemed to me – although I was probably just being delusional again – that she was reluctant to do so. I knew _I _certainly was reluctant to let her leave. But, being unable and unwilling to force her to stay, I would always just let her go, and make my depression at her leaving obvious.

Through our numerous, interesting conversations, I had learnt much about Bella. From the level of detail she was providing whenever she answered one of my inquiries about her, I guessed I knew pretty much everything there was to know about her. Of course I did not know _everything_, as that was extremely unlikely after only having known her for a few days, but I was certain I knew mostthings. I knew, for instance, that her middle name was Marie. I knew that her father, Charlie, was the town sheriff and that he and her mother had gotten divorced when she was an infant; her mother now lived in Harvisham. I knew the names of all her friends and what she liked to do in her spare time. I knew what her favourite type of music and colour and food was. And I knew about her husband.

Jacob Black, the man she was and had been married to for a year now, was, in all respects, and from what Bella had told me, a very agreeable man. I did not know much about him, only that he was very tall, apparently amiable, and worked as a mechanic in town – very close to where I did. That was it. Bella had not said much about him, and whenever the subject was brought up, she skilfully avoided it and digressed at the next opportunity. This confused me, as I could not think of any reason why she would not like to talk about her husband. Not that I was complaining, however – the topic of Bella's spouse did not interest me in the least, and I would gladly talk about something else. But that did not make it any less puzzling.

My foot collided into a rock and I stopped walking, looking up to see where I was. I realised I had reached town without noticing, and so I hastily made my way along the paths towards the medical clinic, eagerly anticipating the moment when Bella would come. There were not many people about in town today, which was not surprising, seeing as I could think of nobody who would want to wake up on a freezing winter's morning and visit the metropolis. I reached the familiar doors of the medical clinic, and simultaneously felt a stab of panic as I wondered if the weather would affect Bella's regular trips to town. I sincerely hoped it wouldn't.

The obnoxious bell rang again as I opened the door and was immediately hit by a wall of hot air. Someone had evidently turned the heating on; I shrugged out of my coat and suspended it from a hook near the door, made my way behind the counter and pinned the ridiculous name tag to my front as I went. I sat down as I usually did and started fidgeting endlessly as I waited anxiously for Bella to come.

_____________________________**************____________________________

Two hours and thirty-five minutes later, and still Bella had not arrived. My patience had been tested to its limits throughout this period of time, and I now resisted the insane urge to run outside and search for her. There had been a total of three customers arrive throughout the two and a half hours, and at this I was very annoyed. Usually I would be grateful, but as I was anxious and waiting for Bella to arrive, I would have fared better if I'd had customers to distract me.

Carlisle had arrived an hour after I had, apologising for his lateness and attributed the cause to helping Esme out with some task or other. I had greeted him briefly and resumed waiting impatiently for Bella to come, but Carlisle had noticed my anxiety. He'd asked, very curiously, what I was so on edge about. I'd replied that I couldn't possibly know what he was talking about. My father had retreated upstairs to the medical lab, obviously displeased.

I breathed a sigh of relief and joy when I heard the bell tinkle and the door open and Bella came walking in from the cold fifteen minutes later. A grin immediately spread across my face and my mood considerably brightened upon witnessing her entry. I stood and marvelled at how astoundingly, unbelievably beautiful she was. Her eyes were bright and her cheeks flushed, the blood colouring her face lightly as a result of the cold, morning exercise. Her hands were gripping the folds of her blue dress loosely, and I could see the corner of her prescription poking out from her enfolded hands.

The horrible werewolf smell was diminished significantly; only a faint trace of it lingered in the air now. The other smell, the delightful, tantalising smell, was extremely pungent in the air now, and it was only intensified by the heating system that had been turned on in an attempt to battle the bitter weather conditions. I realised it was this smell that was making the venom pool in my mouth now, and so I forcefully pushed down my ethics' reprimands on how wicked I was for being attracted to a werewolf. I simply could not help it.

Bella advanced lightly, that gorgeous smile dancing across her lips. Happiness and affection coursed through me as I stared at her, and it seemed to balloon outwards from within me as I thought of the conversation that would ensue after she had made her purchase. Venom rose in the back of my throat, burning me; the desire to attack her right here and now was so overwhelming I very nearly succumbed. But my fierce loathing for anything that would harm Bella stopped me, and, consequently, I began to hate myself for thinking such things. A pointless attempt, as thoughts of how utterly beautiful she was right now were impossible to suppress. Like water, they seeped back into my mind, a wonderful stab of joy following each one. She was dazzling, ethereal, seraphic – _edible. _

I sighed and said, the smile on my face ever present, "Hello."

Bella's eyes twinkled and she replied, in a bright, cheerful voice, "Hello, Edward!"

She advanced two more steps so that she was now leaning on the counter – the smell was so close and intoxicating that I thought I might collapse – and placed her little slip of paper near my fingertips. I grabbed it instantly and our hands connected as they had done many times before, and I could almost feel the blood rushing to her fingertips and cheeks as we touched. The corners of my lips twitched but I did not say anything; I took the slip and walked to the back room, fetching the little bottle of pills she always purchased for her husband.

I came back, pills rattling noisily, and I would swear I heard Bella's breathing become laborious. I smiled; both pleased and amazed with the effect I was having on her. If only she knew what effect she had on me…

Breathlessly, Bella said, "How…" – she swallowed hard – "are you?"

My smile widened slightly and I gave a sort of half laugh, half exhale, and I replied very truthfully then.

"Wonderful."

Bella merely smiled wider.

We began a detailed recount of what had happened to us in the morning thus far, and I found myself quickly entranced by what she was saying. I often lost track of all thought, completely stumped by her beauty and the wondrous symphonies that were rolling off her tongue and out through her perfect lips. She constantly had to prompt me several times in order for me to focus and break from my stupor; sometimes she touched my arm lightly to rouse me, and it was heaven. Whenever this happened she would chuckle and ask what had happened that had made me so dazed. I obviously could not tell her the true reason why I was so spellbound in her presence, and so I laughed along with her and attributed my trance-like state to that of the heating. Bella frowned thoughtfully and did not seem convinced; thankfully, she did not press the matter.

At times I felt like just surrendering and confessing my love to her whenever she asked about my absent-mindedness. Every time she inquired and I had to conjure up some lie that explained why I was so unlike myself it made me sick. I hated it. Lying to Rosalie, though it made me uneasy, was nothing in comparison to what I felt when lying to Bella; Bella, the one I actually loved. But, as I could not possibly declare my sentiments to her, I was forced to deceive her and try to make it as convincing as possible, and suffer horribly. Oh, how I longed to tell her.

We had been talking for a while now – I, more listening and staring than talking – and I was in the middle of responding to one of her questions about my work, when Bella suddenly jumped into action.

"Oh!" she cried, and pressed a hand to her forehead, some memory or other obviously having occurred to her in that moment. She looked up at me, her deep, brown eyes wide with panic. "I was supposed to be at my mother's house at two, and I'm already half an hour late! Oh, but I forgot!"

She took her hand away from her head and placed it over her mouth, horror-stricken. After a moment of what seemed like very frantic thought – I was not certain, as I still could not read her mind – she focused her attention on me once again.

"I'm so sorry, Edward, but I have to go," she said quickly, her eyes and voice apologetic. Her eyebrows knotted together in an expression of disappointment and regret, and she repeated her apology again.

My spirits were significantly dampened now. I did not want Bella to leave. I wanted her to stay and talk with me; I wanted to learn more about her. But I clearly could not force her to stay, so I attempted to seem rather unfazed by her announcement, to no avail.

"No, no, it's fine," I replied, my voice ringing with disappointment. I was sure Bella had noticed. I added, hopefully more cheerfully, "I would hate to keep you from other appointments."

Bella gave a small smile and our eyes locked for a moment. We stood, each gazing into the other's eyes and saying nothing, until Bella remembered again that she had to leave and sprung into action. She ensured the pills were safely in her purse, the purse secure in her hand, and she checked her watch again and again as she gathered her possessions. Then, she fixed me with another apologetic stare.

"Bye, Edward," she said softly.

I smiled in spite of my displeasure.

"Bye," I replied.

Bella turned swiftly around and walked quickly to the exit, both her scent and her dress swirling wildly around her as she hastened to leave. I watched her open the door with a mix of sadness and regret; sadness at her having to leave so soon, and regret for not expressing my feelings to her when I had the chance. I cursed myself when I remembered that I could not possibly tell her about how I felt, because such an act would surely lead to disastrous circumstances – this did nothing to quell my desire.

Bella had one hand on the door handle and was very close to truly leaving now. Refusing to let her go without saying something that indicated how attractive I thought she was or the depth of my affection, I hastily, yet timidly called out to her.

"Bella?" My voice rang out through the store and stopped Bella dead in her tracks. She whipped round, her eyes expectant and still impatient to leave. But the ghost of a smile still lingered on her face.

My mind worked furiously, wondering what on Earth I could say that would convey my feelings in such a way that I did not give everything away.

"You…you look nice," I said lamely. My voice was low and strained. I knew I would be red as a tomato right about now, if it was possible.

Bella's eyes softened. She smiled, a mere tentative quirk of her lips, and replied in a soft, tiny voice, "Thankyou."

She departed.

"_You look nice"?_ My thoughts quoted mockingly, over and over. Surely I could have thought of something better than _that_! "Nice" did not even begin to cover how stunning, how angelic she was, especially in that moment. Decades of walking this Earth, and "nice" was the only word I could come up with to say to her; how pitiful. Then again, I began to think there was not a word that existed that would adequately describe her beauty – "nice" seemed even worse, now. I kicked myself for not thinking of something better to say in that moment, and now busied myself with trying to think of words that would have been sufficient in describing her.

A glint of silver caught my eye. I snapped out of my daze and furious thoughts and looked down at the counter. Several coins and one slip of paper money were upon the table, their metallic surfaces reflecting off the ceiling light. It was a moment before I realised it was Bella's change from her purchase minutes previously. In her haste she must have forgotten it; I must have not noticed it, as my mind was preoccupied with other thoughts of annoyance and self-hate.

I collected the money in one hand and ran out of the store onto the chilly streets that were still damp from last night's rainfall. More people were in town now than when I had arrived, all of them dressed in long coats and woolly shirts that they had deemed worthy to oppose the icy weather. They moved sluggishly, often in packs of two or three to conserve body heat, with the odd few travelling by themselves with their extremities red raw.

I was not fazed at all by the cold, so I was free to run in search of Bella without fear of freezing. I weaved my way through the masses of people, following her delectable scent with my extra sharp senses. I ran south, past the ribbon store – Darla recognised me flashing past her window and waved cheerfully – and onto the very outskirts of town, where very few people or stores were. Her scent was very pungent now, with another equally strong one mixed in with hers. It was the smell of a werewolf, but there was something different to this one that puzzled me. It had a different, more legitimate edge to it that Bella's did not possess. I kept running regardless, and finally spotted her in front of a tall man with a shaggy beard; the two scents were so strong now, so delicate in the balance of sweet and sour, that I momentarily lost track of thought and had to remember I was still holding Bella's change.

Bella's back was to me, her brown hair dancing on her back and over her shoulders, her figure retreating. I was about to call out to her when I noticed another person with her, a man. His arm was around her waist and they both moved sinuously through the street, conversing quietly. Ordinarily I would have listened to their conversation, but I did not like to this time; I was too overwhelmed with the crushing disappointment of seeing Bella with her husband. With Jacob Black.

I knew I couldn't just stand here forever and watch Bella and her spouse go, so, with an air of hesitancy and, for some reason, fear, I called out.

"Bella!"

Both Bella's and Jacob's heads turned instantly. Jacob automatically looked suspicious and foreboding – it was only intensified by his extremely tall stature and dark eyes. His matted, russet hair that reached his shoulders, framing his face like the hood of a cloak, did not help with the image either. But the blatant menace of Jacob was all but diminished when I saw Bella's eyes widen and brighten.

"Edward!" Bella exclaimed, and turned around fully now. She extracted herself from Jacob's arms and ran towards me, a smile on her face. I smiled in response as she came closer, and a number of things happened then, simultaneously.

Bella drew nearer and the werewolf smell that always hung about her reached my nostrils. It was not the same as I had smelled before – it was the other smell I had noticed previously, the different, more pungent and sour one. It wafted towards me and I inhaled a great deal of it involuntarily. Mine and Jacob's eyes locked and I saw his widen as a sudden epiphany struck him. His eyes probed mine, and I could see he was very angry and suspicious about something, though what I had no idea. I quickly read his thoughts.

_But no…could it be? Yes…yes, I always knew there was something strange about that Cullen's whole lot. Bloody vampires, they are. What did Bella just call him? Edmund? No, Edward…rotten bloodsuckers, the lot of them. How could Bella, of all people…_

My own eyes widened and I stared at Jacob, horror-struck. He must have noticed my eyes; for there could be no other way he would know about my being a vampire. But then, Bella saw my eyes all the time. How did she not figure it out?

And then it hit. My horror quickly turned to realisation, and I felt the curious ripple of new knowledge and understanding flow through me. Jacob was a werewolf. There was no other explanation as to why he recognised my species instantly, why he loathed me so.

I had no time to further ponder on my epiphany; Bella was painfully close now. I saw, through my peripheral vision, Jacob anxiously following Bella and wrinkling his nose in disgust at my apparent "repulsive" scent. I mirrored him in spite.

"What are you doing here, Edward?" Bella asked, her glorious voice sounding so out of place in a grubby town like this. I refocused my attention on her and away from her husband.

"You forgot your change when you ran out of the store. I just came to give it back to you," I replied, smiling. I held out my hand as Bella thanked me sincerely, and gave her the money. Bella finished securing it in her purse just as Jacob appeared behind her.

Bella turned her head, startled by his abrupt apparition, but then softened when she saw who it was. Jacob was not looking at her; he was looking in my direction, now appraising me up and down with hard eyes. I stared back warily.

Bella looked from her husband to me, and back again, her expression warped into one of mild panic and embarrassment, though for what reason I had no idea.

"Oh…"Bella said, sounding reluctant. "Edward, er, this is my husband…Jacob Black." She gestured to us in turn as our names were said.

Not taking my eyes off Jacob once, I politely offered my hand. I heard Jacob mentally consider my gesture, and then, with obvious reluctance and the single motive of courtesy, he shook my hand for the briefest of seconds. He buried his hand deep in his coat pocket afterwards, and fixed me with an even harder stare.

_Like damn ice, his hands are. It's right unnatural, that's what it is… _Jacob's thoughts came to me and I snickered mentally at the sneering, almost childlike hatred he felt for me. I scoffed internally at his choice of words. "Unnatural"? Ha! Yes, because _werewolves_ weren't out of the ordinary at _all_…

Jacob's voice cut through my thoughts.

"I'm sorry," Jacob began, who didn't sound sorry at all, "but Bella and I really have to get to her mother's." His voice was cold and toneless.

Bella nodded apologetically and gave a sort of half-smile.

"Sorry, Edward," Bella said, whose sincerity actually sounded genuine. "Thankyou for my money, though," she added, smiling wider.

I nodded, smiled at her, and inclined my head infinitesimally towards Jacob. He did not reciprocate.

With a final smile and wave, and expression of thanks, Bella turned around and took Jacob by the arm to lead him away. Jacob's eyes lingered on mine for a time, boring into mine like drills, every pore of his radiating hate. I could not understand why he would hate me so much after such short a time – even though he was a werewolf, his degree of loathing was extreme – but could not ponder on it further, as he turned away finally and allowed himself to be led away by his wife.

I stood there in the almost empty streets, listening to the many sounds of the marketplace, not eager at all to be leaving to go back to work. I thought about Jacob Black and his relationship with Bella. It may have just been my over-active, delusional mind, but it seemed to me as though Bella was scared of him. No, not scared of; _uninterested in_. Her introduction to me, and the way she said his name, hinted at some deep emotion akin to that felt by me in relation to Rosalie. But then, I was probably just delusional.

I did not want to think about Jacob Black anymore. Anything relating to Bella's husband immediately deterred me from conversation and left me in low spirits. What I really wanted was to talk to Bella. I wanted the pleasure of her company, of our friendship. I wanted to hear her voice.

Almost as soon as I had felt the desire, I _did _hear her voice. My head snapped up in front of me and I looked towards the source of the noise. It was further south, and if I followed it I would venture outside of the town. I considered it, and briefly decided against it, fearing for my job. But then the desire to hear Bella's voice again, even if it was only for the briefest second, overwhelmed everything else and I gave in happily. I searched for any trace of the werewolf smell Jacob and Bella would have left behind, and then I was running.

I did not travel very far until I heard her voice again. I stopped running and looked around me. There, with their backs to me and walking quickly away to my left, were Bella and Jacob. Bella's voice still had the same wonderful, angelic sound to it, but it was harsher this time. It was only when I listened harder and observed the couple did I realise they were arguing. Intrigued, I cautiously eavesdropped on them.

Jacob's deep, rough voice cut across Bella's, sounding very irritated.

"I don't like that _Edward_" – he spat my name – "man." I instantly felt a surge of hate flare inside me.

"Why not?" Bella argued back, her voice as curious as it was annoyed. "He's a perfectly decent person." My hate subsided a little when I heard Bella defending me.

"Ha!" Jacob scoffed, throwing his head back. "Yeah, that's what he _seems _to be…." He trailed off but I could still hear the taunts and profanities in his mind. "A decent vampire! I never heard such a thing." His mockery continued mentally also.

My whole body froze as I registered what Jacob had just let slip. Cursing his name repeatedly, I inched closer to them in order to read Bella's expression at just having learnt the truth. Shock marked every one of her features.

"What?" Her horrified whisper sent chills down my spine.

"He's a vampire, Bella," Jacob responded, as if such a fact should have been obvious. "A dirty, rotten, deceiving bloodsucker and you would do well to stay away from him." The surge of hate flared again, this time with a hotter, more burning intensity than before. I did not move closer this time; I did not want to be any nearer to Jacob than I already was. I could hear every word of their conversation perfectly anyway, so further proximity was not needed.

Bella turned to Jacob, her hand near her mouth.  
"Edward…is a _vampire_?" Her shock and disbelief, while it did sting me, was healed momentarily by the utterance of my name from her mouth. How I loved it when she said my name.

Jacob scoffed again. "Oh come on, Bella, you can't possibly have gone all these days without noticing." His condescending tone made my loathing for the man increase significantly.

"I never knew," Bella replied, her voice distant and thoughtful; a nuance of shock and disbelief still lingered. Then she added, more composedly, "I suppose it explains a lot…"

Jacob did not appear to be listening. He was thinking hard, staring ahead of him and not responding to Bella.

Abruptly, his head snapped to the side to look at Bella, and he said, rather harshly, "I don't want you seeing that man anymore. I don't want you near this town, near that clinic. It's dangerous." It was more of a command than anything else.

_So now he was ordering her around? Warning her against the big bad vampire? _I thought in disbelief and ridicule. Jacob was treating her like a child who had done something wrong and needed to be punished, not like a woman. My hate rose again.

"There's nothing dangerous about Edward Cullen, Jacob," Bella replied, rather calmly. She looked into his eyes, annoyance plain on her face.

"You say that now. But it's a known fact that all vampires are evil, lying creatures that ultimately ruin you forever." I felt a sudden urge to punch Jacob in the face at these words. "Soon enough you'll see what he really is, what his true intentions are."

It was amazing, what lows Jacob Black was stooping to. And all of it just to stop his wife from seeing a vampire whom he knew absolutely nothing about. If he only knew how much I cared for her, how firm I was in my resolution to never hurt her…but no, he could _never _know. Not Jacob Black.

"You're ridiculous!" Bella cried, throwing her hands into the air, her voice raised. She frowned at her husband. "You don't even know him!"

"Do_ you_?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I _do _know him. I know that he is a caring, kind, decent person who would never hurt me, or anyone." Bella's arms were folded over her chest and her brow was set in a frown as she looked at Jacob. I felt my love for her grow when I heard her utter those words. She was correct in her defence, however; I wouldn't hurt her.

But Jacob wouldn't hear a word of it. He seized tufts of his long, brown hair and stopped walking, his face contorted into a look of pure disbelief and infuriation.

"He's a _vampire _for God's sake, Bella! He _can _hurt you, and I'll bet anything that, if he had the chance, he _would._"

I felt my heart sink – figuratively – as I realised how true his words were. I had indeed had the chance to hurt Bella; every moment we spent together was a risk. But I would rather go through the change repeatedly, for the rest of forever, suffer the most excruciating pain, than hurt Bella.

Bella was not fazed by his words. Her expression turned acerbic, and she folded her arms over her chest again.

"What's he gonna do, _bite _me?" she replied sarcastically, and I felt another bitter pang when I heard her say those words.

Jacob remained hard and serious. He shook his head.

"Not you. He and the rest of his family are what they call 'vegetarians'" – he made quotation marks with his fingers – "or something; they feed off animals, not humans. Some sort of 'redemption' thing, I expect."

Bella raised her eyebrows and unfolded her arms.

"You see?" she said, her voice high and gloating. "He doesn't even eat humans! He can't hurt me."

They had now resumed walking, though they were slow. Jacob was still, amazingly, refusing to believe or accept anything that would put me in a good light. He shook his head and continued determinedly.

"I don't care if he doesn't eat humans, he's still a danger to everyone he comes in contact with." Jacob replied firmly, pointing and waving his finger in the air. Then he added forcefully, his finger dancing, "Including _you_!"

It amazed me how unfazed and defensive Bella was upon hearing this latest contradiction. Apparently my being a vampire didn't matter to her in the least; I breathed a sigh of relief. I was still Edward to _her, _at least.

She said sourly, "You're a _werewolf, _Jacob; of course _you're_ going to say that."

But Jacob would not be swayed. He walked faster and Bella had to struggle to keep up, continuing relentlessly.

"It's not just because I'm a werewolf. It should be obvious."

I didn't know how much more of this senseless ranting against me I could take. The very fact that Jacob was trying to persuade his spouse into hating me alongside him, and warning – perhaps 'commanding' was a better word – her not to go and see me made me sick to my very core. Bella should not be treated like that.

She gave an exasperated sigh and rolled her eyes. Shaking her head, she said sourly, "You are _impossible_, Jacob Black."

Their figures retreated so that they were very small, and I did not feel like eavesdropping on Bella and her spouse anymore. Quietly, I turned and ran back towards town, thinking about what I had just seen and heard.

I ran until I reached civilisation and had to stop for risk of exposure. I shoved my hands deep into my pockets and looked down at the ground, frowning and thinking hard.

So Bella knew I was a vampire now. The idea, oddly, made me smile in relief. Relief that there really were no more secrets I had to hide from her, that I could be free and open with her now without having to create some story to conceal my true identity. I felt release as I thoughts of this, and my smile widened.

It faded, however, when I turned to thoughts of Jacob. I wondered what on Earth Bella saw in him that would have ever provoked her into matrimony with the man. Jacob Black, by no circumstances, did not deserve someone like Bella, and she certainly didn't deserve the kind of treatment she received from him. I could not even fathom how Jacob could patronise her like he had, say all those lies to her like he had. A shudder went through me as I remembered what he'd said about forbidding Bella to come to the clinic and see me, commanding her. Bella had not seemed fazed by the comment, but something in his tone now made me wonder if I was ever to see Bella at the medical clinic again. My stomach plummeted; I knew I would not. I shook my head in disgust and disbelief at Jacob. How odious I should think him.

I stopped dead in my tracks in the middle of the street as a sudden realisation occurred to me. It seemed so obvious now, so blatant that I cursed myself for not realising it before. Bella was not a werewolf at all. The smell of dog that hung around her constantly was not indeed hers, and never had been.

It was Jacob's.

Jacob Black was the one that had caused her to smell like a werewolf whenever I saw her. His scent, that strong, raw, sour one, would rub off on her before I smelt her. That was why I had thought she was a werewolf the first time I saw her that night in town; why she had not instantly recognised me as a vampire when she first met me; why she smelled like werewolf every time she entered the store; why her _own _scent, the delightful, saccharic, tempting one, would permeate the werewolf smell as it started to wear off and, consequently, become far more pungent than the other. Yes, it all fit together now, was all so obvious; like the pieces of a puzzle.

Profound relief like no other I had felt before hit me like a battering ram – it took all of my willpower to keep walking towards the clinic. The fact that Bella was not a werewolf, that she was a normal human, was probably the best news I'd ever had. It meant that my feelings and thoughts of attraction were not so horrible now, so contemptuous; but it did not dissolve them completely. The fact of the matter, though it was that Bella was a human and not a werewolf, was that she was still prohibited. We were both in a relationship, – if you could call what I was involved in a relationship – both from two entirely different worlds. She was with werewolves, I with vampires. The fact that she was not _one of them _really hadn't done anything. It had merely reassured me of the fact that she was off-limits. For if I did, by some odd, fantastic miracle, become romantically involved with Bella, it would only lead to further devastation and ruin of both our lives.

And despite all of this contradiction, I was still relieved.

I continued onto the clinic, now wondering what had happened in my absence. I hoped Carlisle would not be too angry with me. If he was, if he demanded he know what it was that I was doing to lead me away from my job, I would surely not be able to escape confession then. I went through several scenarios in my mind, mulling over what excuse I would give Carlisle for my brief absence until I reached the clinic.

I opened the door and was greeted with the familiar tinkling of the bell. Carlisle was nowhere to be seen, so I presumed he was still upstairs with the patients. I scanned the room – everything was exactly as I left it. I thought this odd, as I had expected someone to have filled in for me. But then, I had left so quickly and so quietly I doubted anyone would have even noticed my leaving. I sighed and started to walk back towards the counter, when a gleam of silver caught my eye.

I looked down, sincerely hoping that it was not more change Bella had forgotten and I would have to give to her the next time she came; if she came at all. But upon closer inspection, I saw that it was a necklace. I bent down and retrieved it from the floor, examining it close to my face, even though I could see it perfectly where it was.

On a thin, silver rope hung a pendant; the wrought Britannia silver was in the shape of a capital "I" – Isabella. Several tiny pearls made up the letter's border, with another thin, edging of silver framing that one. The rest of the letter was clear, uncut diamond, glinting in the light in a way much akin to my skin. It was a beautiful necklace, mesmerising in the way it gleamed in the light by just a fractional twist of the hand, the pearls not dulling the diamond at all; if anything, giving it a certain rounded brilliance, which only this particular mix of textures could. I wondered why I'd never noticed it on Bella before.

I also wondered how it could have gotten here, just past the threshold of the medical clinic without me or Bella noticing. Then I remembered Bella running out of the store in her haste to get to her mother's house. It must have slipped off her neck as she ran out, and I must have missed it in my _own _haste to reach Bella and give her the money before it was too late.

My first reaction was to give it back. Naturally, it was what one would do. But then I considered the chances of me ever having an opportunity to actually _give _it back; they were not good. Something in Jacob's wish that Bella never see me again hinted at an authority and command that I doubted anyone dare refuse. So, even if I did choose to give it back, I knew I would not ever get the chance to.

I brought it closer to me and inhaled the scent of it. It was not Jacob's werewolf smell, but the other sweet and pleasant one – Bella's true scent. It was intoxicating, and for a moment my thoughts were jumbled. I thought that it was not likely I would see Bella again. After all I had witnessed today, the chances were slim to none, and I did not want to be filled with thoughts of false hope. I looked closer at the necklace, studying the tiny facets in the gleaming diamond, the smooth, shiny surface of the pearls. This was the only part of Bella I had. The only part of Bella I _would ever have_.I simply could not bear to part with this one, little piece of the woman I loved. Not yet, anyway. I knew, deep down, that I should probably give it back to Bella. But my love for her swelled as I looked at the glittering diamond surface of the necklace; and I decided against it. I would keep it as a reminder of her. It was settled.

I carefully slipped the necklace into my pocket.


	4. Absence

As soon as I entered the house I knew something was different. The general aura of the place was definitely changed, though what exactly was different eluded me at present. I had ambled home in a state of absent-mindedness and ethereal exultation, and the severe guilt I had felt previously at taking something that did not belong to me had all but vanished. It was still present, of course, but I did not feel it so much now; so much that I taken it in and out of my pocket, placing it on the counter, and then regaining it repeatedly. This process had gone on for several minutes, until I had realised I simply could not bear to part with it, and knew that if I did, I would surely lose the one part of the woman I loved forever. Thus, I had secured it in my pocket and began the journey home.

Now in the living room of my house, I searched for Esme and Carlisle. I still knew something was the matter, but still did not have a clue what it could be. I walked through the double French doors and out onto the patio, greeting my parents with a wave and a smile, and they inquired about my day. I replied in the same manner that I always did, commenting on various customers and purchases, and the plights the weather had brought me that day. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary then, nothing indicated the abnormality I had sensed upon arrival; nothing.

"And where is Rosalie?" I asked Carlisle – who had come home an hour before me and left me to close up – curiously. The manner in which he replied was a little too casual, a little too strange for the protocol of normality, and I was instantly unsettled.

"She's gone out to hunt."

There. That was it. The thing I had sensed right from the beginning, as soon as I entered the house – right there. There was no way Rosalie could be hunting now. It did not abide by the normal routine of her hunts, and Rosalie never broke routine. A stab of panic shot through me and I turned, with a mumbled "excuse me" to my parents, and ran through the doors, upstairs and into my room in a second. On my bed that I never used, sealed in a white envelope and addressed to me in tiny, elegant script, was the tangible evidence of my unease. Right there.

I crossed the room, slowly for me, and carefully picked the letter up off the bed, reading my name on the front repeatedly for some reason. After going over each curly letter a multitude of times, I turned it over and broke the seal. My dread rising with each second, I began to read:

Edward,

I don't know why I left this note, nor do I know the reason why I left, but here it is. I know about your Isabella. I know how you feel about her, and I can only assume she feels the same way about you. I know that she is the reason for your constant exultation, and I know that the only reason you are happy about your job is the fact that Isabella is there.

Over the past few weeks I have been noticing strange things about your behaviour. Small things, but for someone who has had two years of being your "mate", a certain attentiveness has arisen inside me, one which I felt the need to call upon recently. The moment I saw that smile on your face - the one so alive, so joyous - I knew something had happened. And I knew I wasn't going to like it.

My fears only grew stronger with each day. Up until a few days ago, I had not known the true cause of your exuberance; I merely assumed something. But then one day it all became too much for me. The thought of something making you so unbelievably happy, and I not knowing what it was - in addition to the sick feeling of dread I experienced whenever I thought of it - became too alluring. So one day I followed you to work. It was a miracle you did not notice me - but then, your thoughts were probably elsewhere, weren't they?

I hid and kept an eye out for anything that would trigger your happiness and thus reveal itself as the cause of both your jubilation and my unease. I did not wait for long. The smile I saw spread across your face the moment Isabella walked into the clinic was simply unbelievable. It was one of pure euphoria, of relief - and of love. And I instantly knew.

I cannot pretend that I wasn't shocked. That would be a lie. But, for some reason, a part of me almost expected it. Two years living with me and assuming the role of my mate and partner would surely have had something to do with this. Of course, I had no idea that our loveless correlation would have led to this, but still...

I suppose what I'm trying to say, is that I don't blame you. I would have been insane to think that you had any obligation to love me when it was so clear to both of us that it would never work out. Naturally, one's attention wanders. The heart wanders. That your heart and attention had managed to wander and fixate itself onto Isabella is something I certainly can't blame you for.

Your infatuation with the woman - something that started out as a mere pique of your interest, slowly escalating into that of true love - finally reached a point where it was physically painful for me to think of it. I could not go on living like this anymore, lying to myself feebly that you really d_id _love me and what I was witnessing was not real. So I have gone. Where, exactly, I do not know, but I know that I cannot stay with you a moment longer.

I suppose I am off to find someone who actually loves me. Really and truly loves me. The kind of love you feel for your Isabella. I want to find that, I think. Whether or not I will is a different matter, but for now that is another one of the reasons I have left.

Tell Carlisle and Esme...I don't know. You'll think of something, I'm sure. Don't show them this letter; I have intended it for your eyes only and I trust you will respect that. But tell them, at least, that I am sorry.

I don't know if I should apologise to _you_ for leaving, Edward. I think of everything that's happened, both now and over the last two years, and I don't feel an apology is necessary. So I think I will just say goodbye.

I mentioned before that I didn't blame you for falling in love with Isabella, and this is still true. But do I hate you for it? I do not know. I suppose time will tell.

Your sister,

Rosalie.

I finished the letter; it was now that I realised I had been absent-mindedly fumbling with the necklace the whole time.

So Rosalie had known all along. I couldn't say I was particularly surprised; I had sensed it early on. Nonetheless, the fact that Rosalie's knowledge of my infatuation with Bella was so vast was something I never expected. It was so powerful that it provoked her to ultimately leave the house – leave my life. The idea made me tingle.

I reread the letter and felt a curious sort of release flow through me when I did. I didn't know why; perhaps it was because I knew that everything was out in the open now? Or maybe, selfishly, it was due to the fact that Rosalie did not possess any sort of censure towards me. Whatever the reason, I felt infinitely better as soon as I finished the last word of the letter, and immediately reread it afterwards.

This letter was, in most ways, a physical manifestation of the truth of mine and Rosalie's relationship. It expressed everything that we had been feeling, witnessing and believing for the past two years and it felt odd to have it here, in writing, tangible. The final words were further evidence of this: _Your sister, Rosalie. _Not _Your mate,_ or simply just _Rosalie,_ but _Your sister. _Sister. This was the final proof that our relationship had ended, that we had both come to our senses and realised, and expressed aloud, the fact that there was no real love between us; platonic love, certainly, but nothing more. The words finalised the realisation, and I felt content as I reread them for a fourth time.

With mine and Rosalie's relationship now with a strong borderline around it, encasing it in the realm of sibling love, I focused my attention on the other, smaller parts of the letter. Two words caught my eye and held my interest. I stared harder at them, bringing the paper closer to my face as if I had trouble reading them – but of course that was impossible. The phrase had been mentioned only twice in the letter, but even so, it had made me feel warmer than I had in seventeen years.

_Your Isabella._

The significance of these two words, to me, was staggering. They stood out from the rest of the letter, as if glowing or written in some fluorescent colour. They struck me, with a force akin to that if I were abruptly hit across the face. The first time I'd read them, a feeling so delightful and overwhelming had washed over me, and I'd had to stop reading momentarily to compose myself. The second time, the feeling had hit me again, but that time there was a new edge to it that was not there before; _familiarity_.

The fact that Rosalie had addressed Bella, the object of my affection and the object of her distaste, as _your Isabella _was unfathomable. And not just the fact that she had used her full name, Isabella, but the fact that that one, tiny word had been put before it so boldly. If those four letters were not there prefixing her name then I might not have been so overwhelmed. If it was simply just _Isabella, _then all of my otherworldly emotion might have been saved.

Your Isabella. _My _Isabella. Mine. Not simply _Isabella _or _Jacob's Isabella –_ but of course Rosalie had not known about Bella's marriage to Jacob, otherwise she would not have written it – but _your Isabella; _that is to say, _my Isabella. _That Bella had been classified as mine – and by Rosalie, of all people - was too incredible. Perhaps she had assumed that some sort of physical affair had been going on between us, and hence classifying Bella as mine? Or maybe she had thought that I would have preferred Bella to be called by her full name, and with a single word of identification before it.

Whatever the reason, it did nothing to stop the flow of emotions course through me the moment I'd read those words. The first time I had, it was like a hidden piece of knowledge had suddenly made itself known, and the epiphany that followed had brought about new understanding within me. The second time, it was as if I was going over something I already knew; the fact that Bella was mine. Like some private joke with myself had just been triggered, and for the rest of the letter I had been smiling and laughing mentally at the gag due to _that._

And it was true, in most respects. Albeit Bella was indeed married to Jacob – a thought that made me shudder with disgust – and, I supposed, she loved him as any other wife would; but for the moment, and in my own mind, Bella was mine. Born from my own delusions, and now confirmed and justified by the small, cursive writing on the paper was that Isabella Swan was, in fact, _mine. _

I smiled to myself.

I stood motionless in the room, still clutching the letter and hardly breathing. My mind had been mulling over everything I had just learnt and for a while I stared into space, processing it all. Suddenly, I remembered Rosalie's only request to me: _Don't show them this letter; I have intended it for your eyes only and I trust you will respect that._

I would respect that. I thought of several ways to deceive my parents, and for a while my mind swirled with loathing for what I had to do. I hated lying to Carlisle and Esme, on any accounts, but it was only intensified by the fact that I was lying to them about the motive of Rosalie's departure – me. But then Rosalie's request came back to me and I pushed the hate away. If Rosalie desired I deceive Carlisle and Esme, after everything I had inflicted upon her, how could I begrudge her that? I could not.

A sudden solution came to mind, and I hastily burst into action. I snatched up a pen and paper from my desk and began to write. It was difficult to forge Rosalie's frustratingly curly script, but in the end I thought I had managed well enough. I reread the forged letter addressed to me and made sure everything was right.

Edward,

I don't really know why I have left, but I hope in time you will learn to accept the motives behind my actions. I cannot stay with any of you a moment longer. Do not take it personally - I do not mean to have you think I left because I dislike you. That isn't true. I love you all. But I guess, in some respects, I thought I didn't belong within this family anymore. You, Edward, and Carlisle and Esme have always made me feel welcome and truly a part of your family, in most respects, I suppose. Nonetheless, I felt the need to leave and...How should I put this? Explore. I wanted to know the world, roam it in greater depth than I had when travelling with you and Carlisle and Esme. I know this isn't a very good explanation of my motives behind leaving, but I hope it will become clear to you later.

Give my love to Carlisle and Esme, and tell them I am sorry.

Rosalie.

I thought it was adequate. I resisted the urge to add, _your sister _before Rosalie's name – it was not my place to do such a thing. I honoured both of her requests in this forged letter, and I felt that my parents would buy it. It would break their poor, lifeless hearts to learn of it – the loathing rose again – but I was determined to carry out this one appeal from Rosalie.

I reread the letter again, sealed it in another envelope, and took a deep breath before commencing downstairs to show my parents. I left the real letter in my desk drawer.

Carlisle and Esme were still seated outside on the patio. I listened to their thoughts as I approached; neither of them appeared to be unsettled by my odd behaviour only half an hour previously. They were having a quiet conversation about hunting, and the best possible spots to find animals. For a second I hesitated, not willing to disrupt their conversation. But then my duty to Rosalie made itself known again in my mind, and I pushed on. I approached, and my parents turned; they stopped talking immediately when they saw the look on my face.

I sighed and held the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger for a fraction of a second before speaking.

"Rosalie isn't hunting."

Confusion flashed across both their faces, and they both sent an inquisitive thought to me. I sighed again.

"She's gone. She...she left this letter for me before she did."

Concern and horror sparked in Esme's eyes. Her first daughter, gone. Left. It made me ache to see her this way. The hurt intensified when I remembered that _I _was the motive for all of this.

_But...why? _Carlisle's shock was also evident in his thoughts. I produced the letter from my pocket and answered his question aloud.

"She gives us her motives in the letter, but they are unclear." My low voice surprised even me with its affliction. I began to draw closer to my parents, but then I stopped.

I whispered, "She wants you both to know that she's sorry. She...she loves you both."

Esme's shoulders shook, and for a moment I was confused. Then, I realised – she wanted to cry.

Ah, how I hated myself in this moment.

I proceeded forward and held out the letter to Carlisle. He read it, his eyes moving quickly and the crease between his eyes deepening with every second. Esme read over his shoulder. They both concluded and looked up, shocked. Esme's shoulders were now a continuous tremble; it was she who spoke first.

"She doesn't think she belongs in this family?" Esme whispered, her voice breaking with hurt and incredulity. "H-How can she think that?"

Carlisle's arm curled around her shoulders in a comforting embrace. His thoughts were buzzing, but he seemed to make sense of it all.  
"Now, now, my dear," he began in a soothing tone, "I'm sure Rosalie feels as part of this family as any other Cullen. But she said it herself, she feels the need to explore, get away from this place. We – I, more than anyone – cannot force her to stay with us if she does not wish it. We turned her into something she resents, and her eventual departure was obvious anyway, even from the start. She owes us no obligation."

Esme nodded, but her shoulders did not rest.

_Oh, my poor Rosalie. I do hope she is okay..._

Esme's continuous thoughts of concern for her only daughter were beginning to make me uncomfortable, to the point where I could not bear to look at her anymore. I focused on Carlisle.

_It's for the best, I'm sure. Rosalie will be fine, and I suppose she can always contact us if she wants to...if she is ever in danger..._

Something told me we wouldn't be hearing from Rosalie for a while – if not ever. The self-loathing strengthened; I needed a distraction.

"I'm going out to hunt," I informed them softly. It struck me now how convenient the prospect of hunting was. At first it served only as a distraction from my parent's woe, but I now realised how thirsty I really was. I swallowed and felt the familiar burn in the back of my throat – I thought of Bella.

Carlisle acquiesced to my intentions, and he warned me to be careful wordlessly, leaving me in peace after he had done so. I smiled sadly at Esme, nodded once to Carlisle, and made my way out and on towards the forest.

I ran with inhuman speed, giving myself over to my senses and searching for the delicate scent of some animal I could hunt. The moon shone down and illuminated the path I ran along, covering everything with a soft, silver glow. As I ran, I half-expected Bella's scent to make itself obvious at any moment. It was a stupid desire, and I found myself laughing hysterically at myself; the wind caught my mirth and scattered it throughout the forest, echoing.

I caught the scent of a bear and several elk in the distance. I burst forward, the thirst for blood pulling me along and guiding me to the sweet sustenance. After breathing and tasting werewolf on the back of my tongue for weeks, it felt pleasant to have a familiar, appetising flavour in my mouth. I attacked the animals with speed and precision, draining them of their blood and being careful not to get any on my clothes. I realised Bella's necklace was still in my pocket; it seemed I went everywhere with it now.

I finished the hunt, satisfied with what blood I had found, and returned home to wait for tomorrow and my job. My parents seemed less shocked and dismayed than before, and had regained most of their equanimity. I gave Esme a hug before retreating upstairs to my bedroom and occupying myself with a novel.

I opened my desk drawer and checked that the real letter was still there. God forbid Carlisle or Esme to venture up here and find it! My hand twitched towards the necklace in my pocket again, and I hastily shut the drawer, ridding myself of the sight of the letter. It was starting to interfere with my sanity.

Sighing, I returned to my book and tried to concentrate. I had to resist the urge to look up at the window every five minutes, as I waited anxiously for first light.

_____________________________**************____________________________

Sunrise, though I had been expecting and desiring it for the last seven hours, still brought a pang of annoyance and frustration that I had to conceal myself for risk of exposure. I dressed quickly and put the hood up on my jacket, deciding I would pose as another freezing member of the townsfolk for the day. It would bother me to have to hide every part of my skin from the threatening glare, but in the end I knew it was vital. It was not as if I could just stay at home for the whole day, cooped up inside and hiding from the sun, and miss my work. Work, I thought with satisfaction, meant Bella.

Grinning to myself in spite of the weather, I descended the stairs and found my parents. Esme was in the kitchen, reading; Carlisle in his study, brushing up on some of his medical knowledge.

I checked the clock – seven thirty. Carlisle had instructed me, after last night's occurrences involving Rosalie had settled, to go to work earlier than usual and open up. Although Esme was definitely better than before, it still distressed Carlisle to see his mate so unsettled, and he had felt it necessary to stay with her for a few more hours before joining me at work. I'd understood completely, and concurred.

I stopped in the doorway on my way out, as Esme wished to speak to me. I raised my eyebrows inquisitively and waited for her to speak.

_How are you, Edward? _

I considered this for a second. In truth, I was very nearly bouncing off the walls, I was so ecstatic. Not because Rosalie had left, but because I had the peace of mind of knowing that Rosalie and I hid no secrets from each other anymore. The manner in which we had left our relationship – or rather, Rosalie had – brought new understandings and a mutual sort of acceptance amongst us that was not there before. There was, however, the matter of where Rosalie had gone and what she was doing, and what she thought of me now. She had said that she did not know if she hated me yet; not that I would blame her for doing so, but still...

Of course, I could not tell Esme any of this, so I hastened to form an answer that was plausible, but not so stretched from the truth.

"I'm doing alright, I suppose, all things considered," I replied, smiling faintly. Esme nodded and took a few steps forward.

"I thought _you _would have taken it the hardest, Edward. Rosalie leaving..." she trailed off thoughtfully, shaking her head with her eyes to the floor. Then, "It would have changed your love for each other, wouldn't it, Edward?"

I fought a laugh. _Oh, Esme, you have no idea..._

I tried to remain casual and indifferent as I said, "I suppose it has changed...a little bit."

Oh, the irony!

Esme nodded and told me, through thought that I should probably be getting off to work. I smiled and agreed, and bade her farewell.

As I made my way to the medical clinic, something occurred to me that I had not thought of before. It struck me suddenly, like the sting of some insect, and my eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

_What would Bella think?_

I had told Bella about Rosalie very briefly in passing during one of our numerous conversations at the clinic. After she had established that she was married, I felt it necessary to state my relationship status; hence, Bella had learnt of mine and Rosalie's affiliation. I was careful not to use the word _married._

Her reaction to the news was, as mine was, slightly disappointed. Her eyes had been towards the floor the whole time after my little revelation and her responses to my questions less than wholehearted. While I disliked seeing her sad, I'd still felt some measure of glee that she was sad about my already having a relationship with another woman. As with Jacob, we hardly, if not never, mentioned the subject of my 'partner' again.

Rosalie's departure from mine and my family's lives would soon reach Bella's ears, I was sure of it. I had absolutely no idea how she would react to the news, but something told me that she was going to be a little less disappointed than what a regular 'friend' would be. I smiled to myself on the way to my work, and thought this reaction very pleasant. But I would have to wait until Bella came today for the real thing.

Once inside the clinic, I turned the heating on. Not that I needed it, but I thought Bella would want it when she came. And also, I didn't think it normal for a freezing human to leave the heating off on this cold, winter's morning, as that was the role I was playing for today. I pinned the dreaded name tag to my front, though I didn't know why I needed it. Bella already knew my name, and it was not as if I cared about any of the other customers enough to make their acquaintance.

The morning passed in the usual fashion – a plethora of abhorrent customers arriving and purchasing their goods, complaining and yelling at me for some unjust reason, the little bell above the door an anthem to their obnoxiousness. It neared half past twelve now, and I was highly strung with anticipation and impatience for Bella to come. I knew she arrived around this time, so my senses were extra alert and jittery now than they had been before. I had remembered to bring my book along with me this time, however, and so I occupied myself with that to settle my nerves until Bella came.

The bell tinkled and I was instantly alert. I inhaled deeply, welcoming the mouth-watering, floral scent I knew would come. But it didn't. I looked up, confused, and saw that the customer was not in fact Bella. Laughing at myself for not realising it before, and with a twinge of shame, I closed my book reluctantly and stood to greet the customer. My spirits were dampened now that I knew it was not Bella, and I did not feel like dealing with this person right now.

The boy advanced – he looked about my age, maybe younger – and I could see the sun glinting off his golden blonde, gelled hair. (I hoped it did not catch a bare patch of my skin and expose me). The man clutched his prescription tightly, his knuckles white and trembling against his skin. He walked awkwardly, and he looked over his shoulder sporadically with anxious jerks of his head, as if someone was there. I watched him and, for some reason, felt pity for him. I did not know why, but something about the boy made me want to go over and pat his shoulder and comfort him. A ridiculous notion, but I could not help it.

_Poor boy looks scared of his own shadow! _I thought, realising how true this was.

He reached the counter and I made an attempt at smiling at him – he looked as though he needed it. He smiled back, though it was not so much a smile as a robotic tweak of the corners of his lips. His face did not relax afterwards.

The boy held out the slip of paper hesitantly; his fingers were shaking. I took it from him, careful not to make contact with his skin. He was scared enough as it was, I did not need to increase it with my glittering and ice-like skin. I glanced at the title of the medicine – and froze.

It was the exact same medicine that Bella usually bought. Confusion struck me and I looked back up at the boy, frowning and studying his face. He did not look familiar to me, and I was sure Bella had never mentioned a blonde haired boy in any of our conversations before.

Still wondering who the man was and why he was buying this particular medicine, but thinking it too impolite to ask him about it, I retreated to the back room and found the little bottle of pills I always reserved for Bella. It felt odd, handing this stranger medicine that I was sure he didn't even use. But he paid me and I gave him his change, and he turned to stumble out of the clinic. And it hit.

_He was replacing Bella. _Jacob and Bella's argument came rushing back to me and I recalled the one, significant thing Jacob had said to Bella that had brought me so much unease and had partially, also, led me to keep her necklace: "_I don't want you seeing that man anymore. I don't want you near this town, near that clinic. It's dangerous." _Now, it seemed, Jacob had stayed true to his word. This boy had, most likely, somehow been sent to purchase Jacob's medicine regularly, as was once Bella's job. I wondered if he had any affiliation to Bella or Jacob, or their family – in addition to wanting to know more about Bella and Jacob's threat to her – so I hastily called out to him.

"Wait!" I cried, and the boy jumped – literally. My voice had been harsher than I'd intended, and it seemed I'd scared him out of his wits; again. He turned, eyes wide and fearful, and I tried to make my voice softer when I spoke next. "Who are you?"

He looked at his shoes, and I heard him wonder whether to step forward or not. He decided against it eventually, and stood straight as a rod when he responded.

"I-I'm Mike Newton, sir," he replied in a little more than a whisper.

_Sir. _My head tilted and I wondered why he'd used such a formal manner of speaking to me. My intrigue increased.

"How..." I began, but stopped and hesitated. Finally, "Do you know Isabella?"

Mike nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'm the butler, you see. I keep house and cook and all that. I-I live with Miss. Swan and her h-husband."

I noticed Mike's stutter and how fearful he sounded when mentioning Jacob, but I did not say anything. I continued, the desire for more information growing.

"Do you know where she is?" I asked, my eyebrows rising in hope.

To my dismay, the butler shook his head. A little too fervently, one might say.

"No, sir." It sounded too mechanical, too automatic, even for him, who looked mechanical and shaking as it was; as if he had been commanded to say it. I suddenly felt a rush of hate for Jacob Black.

I nodded anyway, and smiled.

"Thankyou, anyway, Mike," I said. He nodded and ghosted from the clinic, shaking all the while.

As soon as he had left I pondered on what new information I had just received, and thought how odd Mike Newton was. Finding this far more amusing and interesting than my book – which I now considered insipid – I spent the next half hour thinking of it, and the rest of my shift passed in this fashion.

When I returned home it was much like I left it, with the only exception being that Carlisle had gone out to hunt. Esme was still at the kitchen table reading today's newspaper, and Rosalie was still gone. I dropped my bag on the floor and joined my mother in the kitchen, reading the newspaper over her shoulder and inquiring about her day and how she was feeling about Rosalie. She replied that she was fine, and both her thoughts and her voice assured me that this was indeed the case.

A particular article caught my eye. I asked Esme if I could have the paper for a moment, and she complied. The title read: SERIAL KILLERS CLOSE BY. I read, and quickly became horrified with what I was reading. I was halfway through the article, when I heard the front door open. In the next second, Carlisle was at my side.

"So you've seen it, then?" Carlisle asked not quite rhetorically, pointing to the newspaper. I nodded.

"I don't understand," I said truthfully.

He sighed and sat down, hands folded upon the table. He unfolded them for a brief second to gently massage his brow, and then returned them. Both mine and Esme's eyes were fixed on him.

At last he said, "While I was out hunting, I caught a scent. Several scents, rather; some were more potent than the others. They were vampires, I was certain of it, but not only that – they were nomads." He paused, took a deep breath and went on. "In addition to the new vampire smells, I caught the scent of fresh blood in the distance. Judging by how far away the scent was from here, I guessed they were in Harvisham, maybe farther.

"I don't know much about them; up until now, I didn't even know a new band of vampires were due to pass through this town. But I know this." Carlisle shook his head slowly. "They mean business. Whatever innocent humans they murdered...I know they enjoyed it.

"We would do well to keep an eye out for them, as I'm sure they'll drop by here for a visit." Carlisle's authoritative voice rang through the house. Esme and I both nodded.

"I was reading this article about them before you came in," I said, gesturing to the newspaper.

Carlisle raised his eyebrows.

"What does it say about them?"

"Not much. The humans don't know a lot about them, only that they're a group of four supposed serial killers who are on a spree throughout this area. Thankfully, they haven't suspected anything supernatural, so exposure is unlikely," I replied, looking back to the article.

There was silence for a moment.

"Tell me, is there any picture of what these vampires look like?" Carlisle asked softly.

I nodded. "There is one, apparently taken by a witness who saw them fleeing from one of their murders. It only shows two of the vampires fully – a man and a woman – but the other two are hidden; I can't make out their faces."

I looked down at the photograph. The moonlight illuminated only spots of the photograph, but it was enough to make out that the town was Harvisham. A big, wooden house took up most of the photo; it's thick, cross-hatched beams looking even more ominous in the light. Another identical residence sat on the other side of the pathway, several metres behind the first. The brick ground stretched out past the two houses and on to the forest green beyond. A pool of blood seemed to seep out from the corner of the picture, even the still, snapshot of life not enough to stop its awful crawl. The moonlight shone down and a spot of the glow hit the blood, giving it a certain pearly, sickening effect to it.

Two figures were evident in the picture. They were in the act of fleeing from the murder scene, as was obvious in their captured poses. One was a woman, her cat-like face straight towards the camera. A vibrant shock of red hair trailed across her face and shoulders, caught in the wind. Apart from this, there was nothing else visible of her; her limbs were merely a blur. The other vampire was right behind her, this one a man. A corner of his head had a spot of moonlight on it to reveal sandy, brown hair. His limbs were also only a blur caused by the supernatural running, in addition to the left side of his head; but his eyes were visible. They stared behind him at the pool of blood on the floor, the corners crinkled and raised – he was smiling.

The third was indistinguishable against the black night. Surprisingly, one of his arms was visible, revealing only the outlines of burly muscles. The fourth was equally as invisible as the other. He or she was evidently in the act of hiding around the side of the second house, though apart from that I did not notice anything else. I frowned and looked harder at the picture, though my sight was perfect anyway.

I might have imagined it. It might have been just a trick of the light, or the witness' camera might have shook.

But I could have sworn I saw a head of wavy, blonde hair caught in the wind before it disappeared around the corner.


	5. Car Crash

Sometimes, I hated my job. In the beginning it had been pleasant – the extra time gave me opportunities to escape Rosalie and go hunting – but it had quickly turned sour. Then, as if guided here by some sort of angel, Bella had arrived that fateful, cold day and bought medicine for her husband. Work had immediately become better, and I, for once, actually enjoyed coming into town every day and placing myself amongst the ridiculous townsfolk in order to see her. My life had changed forever.

There were some times, however, when my job had been more of a curse than a gift. There were the obnoxious pustules that visited the clinic every day and verbally abused me; the incessant monotony of the task I was assigned to complete; the weather that threatened the exposure of my species at any time; and then there was the endless waiting – waiting for Bella.

This was one of these moments. The moments that made me so infuriated, so unbelievably depressed and agonised that I felt like going into a forest and uprooting several trees to release my emotions. It had been a week since I had discovered the new nomad vampires, a week since Rosalie had left, and a week since I'd first seen Mike, the replacement for Bella. A week of insanity.

Bella had not come back to the store in that entire week. I'd arrived at work the day after learning of the four vampire killers, sincerely hoping that day was not going to be a repeat of last time. Alas, the frightened blonde haired boy had come again, and I'd begrudgingly handed him Jacob Black's medicine. Angry at Bella's husband and now depressed, I'd spent the rest of the afternoon unsociable and taciturn.

The next day had been as bad as the one previously – worse, if possible. I'd hoped, hoped futilely for Bella to come that day at the clinic. I'd stared at the door, a frozen, unblinking statue, all the while somehow knowing that she wasn't going to arrive. And yet, I'd still waited, still hoped. When the door opened at the usual half past one and Mike Newton had _not_ come trembling through the door, I'd been surprised. I'd grown so used to the boy's terrified presence that the arrival of a new person to come and collect the medicine was strange and unfamiliar to me. It had been a girl, with light brown hair and a shy, quiet disposition. Her thoughts had not revealed anything of value to me – that is, anything concerning Bella and her whereabouts – so I'd merely gone through the usual procedure I reserved for customers other than Bella. The next day had been no different, with the exception of who came to collect the medicine. As usual I'd hoped for my Bella to come and ease my fears, and as usual she had not. A rude, obnoxious girl with curly, dark hair had come through the door with a prescription, and even before she opened her mouth I'd hated her. Not just because she was at the clinic instead of Bella, but because her thoughts were so vulgar, so unbelievably cruel that it'd made me want to throw her onto the other side of town.

The rest of the week had passed in this fashion, either Mike or the shy girl or the annoying one replacing Bella every day. I'd become more acidic and depressed as the days had gone by, and after five days of going without seeing Bella once, and dealing with her alternatives, I'd thought I'd had all I could take. I'd thought my hard, bitter shell would have prepared me for anything.

But nothing, _nothing, _could have prepared me for Jacob Black.

He had strode into the clinic on the sixth day with his long overcoat swirling around him, bringing with it the fresh, winter's air and the many scents of the people outside. His thick, dark eyebrows were set in a frown, and not once throughout our encounter had they relaxed. Our mutual loathing had been so strong, so electric that day that I was surprised we could not feel it rolling off each other in waves. It was one thing for Jacob to forbid his wife from visiting me, or this town, but it was a whole other matter for _Jacob_ _himself _to come here to purchase his own medicine when it was so clear that he hated everything about me and my family. The very insolence of the man suggested at a deeper meaning to his visit to the clinic, some other motive that indicated he had come out of spite, rather than need. I'd been sure that he could have just sent one of his little errand boys to do the work for him, so the fact that he dared show his face in this medical clinic had made my hate for the man rise exponentially.

"Hello, Edward," Jacob had said, his voice cold and toneless.

"Jacob," I'd spat back through gritted teeth.

Walking slowly, deliberately, as if to infuriate me, he'd approached the counter and thrust his slip of paper in my face. Wordlessly, and with an ever growing desire to punch him in the face, I'd retreated to the back room as usual and fetched his medicine. I'd sincerely hoped that whatever illness he had that made him take so much of this medicine so regularly would not go away so easily. I'd come back to the counter, but neither of us were inclined to speed up the transaction process. We'd merely stood there, silently refusing to speak; as if the action would prove us weak and inferior to the other, and seem a friendly attempt at socialising – which neither of us was particularly interested in.

I'd listened intently to Jacob's thoughts – which were buzzing – in a pathetic attempt to divulge information on where Bella was and what he was doing to her. The task had proved fruitless, and I drew myself out of his mind just in time for him to speak.

"Let me make something quite clear, Edward," he'd said in a low voice. So _he _was the weak one. "I'm not concerned with formalities so I'll pay you the courtesy of being blunt." He'd taken a slow, deep breath. "I don't like you. From the moment I met you I knew this. And not just because you're a vampire" – the word sounded odd coming from him and he seemed to think so too; he shuddered and paused – "but because of your relationship with my wife."

He'd taken three small steps forward and wrinkled his nose at the apparent foul scent of vampire. I'd mimicked him.

"I don't know exactly what you and Bella discuss here on her little trips to this clinic – I don't much care. But if you're as smart as she says you are, then you'll heed my warning." He took one more step closer and leaned in so his face was near mine. His frown deepened and there was definite menace in his tone when he spoke next. "Stay away from her. Stay away from me, our families; but especially from Bella. If you ever put her in any danger, of any kind – I don't care how much she protests or what ramifications it will have – _I will kill you_."

I'd nearly snorted. A death threat passing through Jacob Black's lips, his meagre attempt at being intimidating, was laughable. But I'd managed to keep a straight face.

Jacob leaned back from the counter and set his jaw.

"Do I make myself clear?" he'd asked slowly, coldly.

I did not nod, but rather lowered my head, keeping my eyes locked on Jacob and staring up at him through my eyelashes. He seemed to consider it a nod, and he nodded once.

"Now," he went on, with an air of what seemed like triumph, "if that matter is settled, I'd like my medicine." He held his hand out to receive the bottle of pills.

I'd flicked my wrist and held the bottle back, near my neck. I'd inclined my head.

"I don't much like you either, Jacob, so let me pay _you _the courtesy of being blunt also," I said, my voice ice cold. My eyes bored into his and I detected a slight shift in his posture; he was uncomfortable.

I gritted my teeth and spoke slowly, clearly, "Where is Bella?"

Jacob blinked – yes, he was definitely uncomfortable now.

"That's none of your business." I heard him mentally add the word _leech _at the end, and my hate surged.

"It is when her absence indicates some sort of abuse on your part," I'd replied.

Jacob's eyes had widened, and his thoughts had turned furious.

"Are you suggesting that I've hurt Bella in some way? That I _abuse _her?" He'd countered, his tone incredulous and hysterical. His eyes bulged and I'd noticed his fist clench.

"I am suggesting," I'd began slowly, emphasising each word, not wishing Jacob to phase here in the store, "that you tell me where she is – right now."

Jacob had begun an internal mockery at my threat, and I'd seen him trying to keep a straight face while he wondered how to respond. He'd raised his eyebrows and thought himself infinitely superior, before replying.

"I don't have to tell you anything, Edward," he'd said, shaking his head. "And as for your little threat? Well, I made my reply clear before, but I suppose you weren't listening – _it's none of your business_."

I'd remained motionless and unresponsive. I could see I wasn't going to get any information out of him, at least not today. I was beaten.

Jacob had blinked several times again, and taken a deep breath before speaking.

"I'd like my medicine." He'd repeated, holding out his hand again.

Gritting my teeth in frustration and anger, I'd thrust the little bottle into his outstretched hand, taking care to make as much contact with his hand as I could. I'd known how much he hated my icy skin. Jacob took the bottle, shoved it deep into his coat pocket, and exited the clinic, shutting the door with as much force as he could. My hate had soared.

His visit had shaken me; not in the physical sense, but because I knew that the way he had – albeit unskilfully – avoided the question about Bella only confirmed my fears about what he was doing to her. I could not be sure that he was actually abusing her, but I knew that wherever she was, she was not happy. And this fact made me shudder.

It was now a day later, and I was once again stationed at the front counter of the medical clinic, waiting for my shift to end so I could go home and wallow in my own self-pity. A pathetic course of action, I knew, but as there was nothing else to do I had no other choice but that.

I spotted the newspaper sitting on the corner of the table. A familiar headline caught my eye and I went and retrieved the paper so I could read it further. Upon closer inspection, I saw that it was another article about the four, vampire – or, as the humans knew them, _serial killers – _nomads who were terrorising the towns near here, and were very close to this town. There was no picture this time, but I did not dwell on that; I already had a faint idea of who was involved with the killings...

I read and reread the article in a space of three minutes. When I was finished, my teeth were together so fiercely that I thought they would shatter. My mind was hazy and clouded by anger. For it was in fact, both vampiric and human knowledge, that the "serial killers" were even bigger a threat then either party imagined. In the short time they had been in the area, they had already murdered dozens of innocent humans, set fires to three villages, reducing them to nothing but ashes and remains, and robbed countless stores. An odd thing for a vampire coven to do, for why would they need to rob stores? My mind swirled with questions, and I looked harder at the article, searching hopelessly for some clue that would hint at their next move. I found nothing, as I knew I would, and so I was left to ponder on what I had just discovered for the remainder of my shift.

The musings did not last long. Gradually, I found my awareness drift from the mysterious workings of the vampire killers to thoughts of Bella and where on Earth she could be. They overflowed, seeping out from my conscious thought and dripped, travelled throughout my body until they consumed me and I could think of nothing else. I hadn't seen Bella, heard her voice, inhaled her heavenly scent in a week. One whole week. I'd been obsessing over her whereabouts for this whole week, worrying over what her condition was and if her husband had anything to do with it. I'd become distant and rather stoic towards my parents; they took it to be a delayed reaction to Rosalie's departure. They had both assured me that everything was going to be okay, and that wherever Rosalie was, she was fine. I'd played along with their assumptions – even though I hated myself for it – for the week, hoping they wouldn't notice the same things Rosalie did. Thus far they hadn't, but I was still guarded in how much I expressed my emotions around them, for fear they would discover the truth: that I wasn't missing Rosalie. I was missing Bella.

Oh, how I missed Bella! The relentless desire to see her, to smell her, to hear her, had, over the days, evolved into a fierce aching in the pit of my stomach. This ache had been growing over time, and I'd thought I had the worst of it. But on the fourth day, when the shy girl came to collect the medicine and not Bella, the aching, the desire, grew to such an extraordinary peak that I'd nearly collapsed right there in the store. Miraculously, I'd managed to hold myself together long enough to complete the transaction and for the girl to leave. Once she had gone, however, I'd buried my face in my hands and hoped – a habit I'd developed – that somehow, Bella would come and tell me everything about where she had been. I'd imagined the door opening, Bella behind it, stepping over the threshold and into the clinic. The warm air brought by the heating system would stir her scent. I would inhale, and the burn that would scorch the back of my throat would bring relief, and the thirst combined with this would create euphoria. I'd imagined her parting her perfect lips, smiling...the ache would weaken; it's clawing at my stomach less painful. And then she would say my name, and the ache would cease.

These little fantasies I'd had over the week had turned to delusions. What began as Bella's scent in the air, thirst in my throat – turned to me losing control completely and attacking her. I would feel the skin at her throat with my lips and then, slowly, break its surface with my teeth, relishing the sweet ambrosia I'd wanted from the beginning. Bella would gasp, and I would drink...with her last breath, she would tell me that she loved me...

I'd snapped out of this, of course. Guilt and self-loathing at what I'd imagined, _wanted, _coursed through me and for a moment I didn't miss Bella at all. I was horrified, scared of what might happen if she _did _come striding in to the medical clinic and surprise me with her sudden appearance. After I'd scolded myself sufficiently, the same ache I'd been experiencing for days would return, and I'd resume my hopeless desire – _need – _for Bella.

As I had done before, my head was in my hands now. I was determined to not let the fact that I missed Bella overcome me, determined to hold onto the last bit of sanity I had left. My attempts, though valiant, were not nearly enough to dispel my emotions. Pathetically, I surrendered to their force.

_____________________________**************____________________________

Hours later, in the cold, dark of night, I stood outside, closing up shop. Carlisle often instructed me to do this, usually when other matters called him home early. Sometimes I offered to do it myself, out of courtesy to Carlisle. This was one such time. I thought my extended absence from home would give my parents a moment's peace from my incessant wallowing and stoicism. I was depressed, I knew, but I still had a measure of respect for my parents amongst the miserable emotions.

I bolted the door shut and checked the locks to make sure they were secure. Briefly, I shuddered at the thought that these locks would not be enough to withhold a vampire. After deeming them worthy against most non-vampiric-nomad attacks, I returned the keys to my pocket – the vacant one of the two; one held Bella's necklace – and I was about to begin the journey home, when I heard it.

"Edward?"

I did not trust myself to turn around immediately. I'd been wanting to hear that voice for so long, have it's pleasant sound ring in my ears, for a whole week that I was sure I was just deluding myself again. But as I stood, frozen and beginning to panic, I heard it. And there were no doubts.

Her heartbeat.

I whipped round, eyes wide with hope and joy, and she was there. Like some angel out of a painting, smiling and dressed in white cotton with her hands clasped in front of her, just as I remembered, was Isabella. My Isabella.

I smiled and inhaled, tasting her delectable scent on the back of my tongue and feeling the familiar burn in my throat, just as I'd imagined. I welcomed it, breathing deeper in order to experience the feeling at a higher level. I knew what this must be doing to my senses – and my thirst – but I didn't care. She was here.

"Bella," I said through a sigh. I smiled wider and took a few steps towards her.

Bella's answering smile was a little too...tentative. As if she was unsure if she should smile back or not. I was puzzled as to the reason behind her unease, but there was time to find out everything later. At present, I was stumped by her.

"Bella, where were you?" I asked softly, frowning. "You didn't come for a whole week and I was beginning to worry."

I snickered mentally at my choice of words. _Beginning to worry _did not do justice to how utterly concerned I was for her wellbeing.

Completely truthfully and sincerely, I added softy, "I missed you."

I quirked my lips in a smile similar to Bella's, and lowered my eyes. I realised how close I had come to replacing _missed _with another word, and I now hid in embarrassment. Bella did not seem to have noticed, however. Her heartbeat quickened, and she took one step forward.

"I missed you too, Edward," she replied. Her voice also rang with sincerity, to which I was extremely surprised. But the discomfort took over again, and she resumed her previous, awkward state. "I'm sorry I didn't come for this entire week, but I couldn't. I..." She trailed off.

_But I couldn't. _The phrase brought back thoughts of Jacob and what I thought he was doing to her. I so desperately wanted to ask Bella about him, confirm what I suspected, but I knew I couldn't – at least, not directly. If I could coax it out of her, perhaps...

"Why couldn't you come, Bella?" I asked a little too fervently. In my ardency, I'd taken several steps forward and clenched my fists. Bella had noticed my abrupt change in demeanour, and she shrank back. At this, too, I was surprised, but I redeemed myself. My hands unclenched, and I softened my features.

"Why didn't you come?" I repeated, my voice feather soft.

Tears began to form in Bella's eyes, to my immense surprise. I didn't know one question would spark such a reaction in her, and I was severely penitent.

"I'm sorry, Edward," she said, her voice breaking. A few tears fell down her cheeks but she brushed them away furiously. She attempted to compose herself. "I'm sorry I didn't come. I couldn't, there was no way..." So softly that it would have been inaudible to all ears except my own, she added: _He forbid it..._

Anger rose in the back of my throat like bile, burning me with its intensity. So Jacob _did _have something to do with it. Triumph at my being correct in my assumption was quickly overtaken by a fierce desire to rip his throat out. I managed – how, I do not know – to quell my desires and answer.

"Bella," I began, slowly, "why did you come? Why now, when you could have waited until morning?" My whispered questions were not accusatory or derogatory in the slightest, simply curious. Bella's forehead creased and she had the same look of being about to cry on her face.

It was illogical, Bella being here. Never had she come to see me on a personal visit, and this late at night. There were rebellious connotations in her stance, the way she spoke, and yet sadness I could not account for. I wanted to know why she was here, what had happened to her over the week, where she had been... My mind buzzed with endless questions and I stepped forward again – Bella did not retreat this time – and asked her one of the questions, needing a clear answer.

"Bella, what are you doing here?" I asked. I waited for her answer, but then a sudden idea came to me. I added quickly, "If your husband comes here and catches us together, I don't think he'll be happy." There. That should be more than enough to draw a sufficient reply out of her.

Bella's eyes began to tear up again at the mention of her husband, and she bit her lip. She shook her head, barely containing her tears, and replied.

"I'm so sorry, Edward," she choked, misery plain on her face. "I know, I shouldn't have come, but I just had to...I had to come...come and–" She broke off and squeezed her eyes shut, tears falling.

"Bella?" I said softly, frowning. I reached out to her at the exact moment she burst into speech.

"I'm sorry, Edward...so sorry..." Bella whispered, her voice strained.

I took another step forward, but Bella retreated again. She shook her head, cheeks stained from tears, and for a moment her mind seemed to be caught in a strong dichotomy. At last, as if in slow motion, Bella turned and ran.

I was so surprised I nearly fell down. As the physics of vampiric anatomy still remained, I stayed upright, but in my mind I was falling. My thoughts buzzed frantically, wondering what had happened to Bella that had made her run, and what I was to do about it. Obviously what motive she had for running concerned me, otherwise this conversation would not have even happened. And she had begun to say something, something that seemed difficult for her to say... In addition to all this, I still had my questions that needed answering; what had happened to her, why she had come tonight, if she knew about Rosalie, what she thought of it all. And what was she sorry about? So many questions... I could still see her figure running away from me, occasionally stumbling on some rock or discarded bit of rubbish. I watched her go, and something in my mind clicked.

I began to run after her. Seeing her flee like that, obviously so distressed, caused me more pain than anything else. I wanted so desperately to reach her, draw her into my embrace and tell her that whatever was troubling her would go away. I knew I probably couldn't do exactly that, but regardless, I needed to go after her. I'd already lost her once. I wasn't going to let it happen again.

I ran a little faster than human pace. I could have easily caught up to her in half a second, but I did not wish to scare her any more than she already was. So, a little uncomfortable at having to move so slow, I chased after her, letting her lead the way. Bella didn't stop once. I followed her to the outskirts of town, past Darla's ribbon store and onto the path that she and Jacob had once walked and argued on. The memory brought back uncomfortable pangs of anger and annoyance, but I tried to push them away.

We kept running, Bella fleeing, I pursuing, until we reached a forest. She kept going, running straight into the depths of the wood and forcing me to follow her. I sincerely hoped that no animals were present; I was sure my thirst would not hold for longer.

As if I somehow knew before it actually happened, Bella's foot caught on a tree root. She gave a hopeless sound, and her arms reached out in front of her to catch herself on her hands. Reacting with blinding speed, I seized Bella by the arm and caught her before she hit the ground, drawing her so she was upright. Taking care not to hurt her, I whipped her round by the elbow.

"Bella," I said, concern coating my voice.

Bella's eyes were still streaming tears, and her cheeks were wet. I heard a sound; a tiny, high-pitched squealing made in the back of the throat, emanate from Bella. Milliseconds later she sobbed, and her face contorted into a look of misery. She cried harder than she had before, and she raised a hand to wipe her eyes.

I released my hold on her arm and she stepped back several paces, stopping just in front of the tree root. Her sobs echoed throughout the forest.

"Bella, what's wrong?" I asked, my voice low and urgent. A deep crease was, I knew, set between my eyes and would not relax. Seeing Bella so distraught forbade it.

She sniffed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

"I'm s-sorry, Ed-ward," she choked, still wiping her eyes.

"Why are you saying sorry? Why did you say it before?" I asked in reply, the crease deepening. I hated seeing her like this.

Bella's eyes were towards the ground. She took a deep breath and raised her head slowly, speaking as she did.

"I–"

But she'd stopped speaking. Her eyes had been travelling upwards from the ground, making their way up to _my_ eyes; but they'd stopped. They were fixed on a spot near my knee. Her pupils moved rapidly from side to side, and a frown gradually manipulated her eyebrows into a look of bewildered frustration. I, too, frowned and looked down at what she was so mesmerised by. And I, too, froze.

Bella's necklace was hanging out of my pocket. The silver chain and part of the "I" was visible, dangling in full view of Bella. When I was pursuing her, it must have slipped out from my pocket and was about to fall completely, but I had stopped to catch Bella. My eyes flickered to Bella and back to my pocket again and again, and I began to panic. The alarm spread through my body like a virus, poisoning every part of me until I was numbed by it completely. This was a catastrophic turn of events. At no point had I intended Bella to find out that I was in possession of her necklace, especially now when she was so distraught already. The panic peaked, and I sprung into action.

Hastily, I fumbled with the necklace as I tried to shove it back into my pocket. I knew it was no good; the damage was already done, but even so, the vehemence with which I tried to hide Bella's necklace was outstanding, even for me. My sudden reaction snapped Bella out of her trance, and she blinked rapidly. She raised her head and blinked again, still frowning.

"Wait a minute," she said, sounding weary. She pointed to my pocket. "Let me see that."

I did not obey. My childish attempt to dissuade her from asking about her necklace was indeed ridiculous, but I was at my wit's end at present. I stood there, a stone statue, unmoving with my arms by my sides.

But Bella persisted.

"Edward," she said firmly, taking a step forward. "Let me see it." Her emphasis on each word surprised me. I did not think her a hard person.

There was no escape now. Reluctantly, I pulled the necklace out from my pocket and suspended it delicately with my fingers. My hand was at an odd angle, so my outstretched arm looked like the leafless branch of a tree; the moonlight and the dark played across the necklace and cast shadows across my arm and hand – just like a tree.

I kept my head up, but I avoided Bella's eyes. I did not want to see the horror and hate burn in them, as I knew they would when she confirmed it was her necklace. Though unwilling, I still managed to see Bella's eyes widen through my peripheral vision. Shame and disgust at what I had done struck me, and I lowered my head even more. I was a coward. How pitiful.

I heard Bella's slight gasp, and I saw her eyes widen even more. They moved to my face, and I was forced to raise my head due to the intensity of their stare. Relief at there being no horror or deep loathing present was quickly dispelled by the presence of shock. The shame burned with a fiercer intensity.

"Edward," Bella began, her voice slightly uneven and in a tone of forced calm, "where did you get that?"

Her voice was so soft it was almost a whisper. But there was a threatening edge to it that I'd never heard in Bella before, and, frankly, it frightened me. Such an innocent, sweet person should not surely be ominous, should they?

Her question demanded the truth. Now, I would have to tell her about how I kept something that was not mine in the first place; my hate for what I had done would mean nothing to her, I was sure. And then I would have to reveal my motives behind keeping the necklace... Both panic and relief swept through me, and I shuddered at their force.

I managed to speak.

"When you ran out of the store that day, you left it," I said, knowing that Bella would know to which incident I was referring. My speech became faster as I tried to explain myself and evade her glare. "It must have slipped off your neck. I was going to return it to you, really, but you never came back–"

"That gives you no right to take it and keep it for yourself!"

Bella's shrill interruption stopped me. She was absolutely right of course. I had no right to keep her necklace. My reasons for keeping it in the first place, now, seemed weak and insufficient. My shame burned and I hated myself.

"I know, Bella. I-I'm sorry."

How pathetic my apology sounded now. Perhaps Bella thought so as well, for it did not seem to have any effect on her. She continued, relentless.

"My father gave me that necklace," she said firmly, callously, apparently ignoring what I'd said. I stared into her eyes now, hoping to make her understand exactly how penitent I was.

"I'm so sorry, Bella. Truly, I am," I replied, the guilt evident in my voice. I hoped this would be enough to dispel her anger.

But, if anything, my apologies only fuelled her incense. As if anything coming from my mouth, even if it was an apology, infuriated her and she wished it to stop. She threw her hands up and rolled her eyes. Frowning, she went on.

"Why did you even keep it?" she asked exasperatedly; I did not expect this.

It was over. I could see my carefully cultivated façade falling down, the supports put in place to hold it upright crumbling, and my true motives and demeanour becoming visible. Her question could not be evaded now. Like her previous one, it was a _command_, something I dared not try and avoid. I tried to think of ways to tell her my motives behind keeping her necklace, tried to think of words that would convey exactly what had possessed me to take something that did not belong to me; all done under the influence of _love. _

Love. The excuse seemed flaky and puerile now, and I was almost embarrassed with what I felt. For now, love did not seem at all an adequate excuse for stealing. And what was I supposed to say to her? _"Yes, Bella, it's true. I kept your necklace because I was in love with you and wanted to have some sort of reminder of you. Is that a just reason?" _No, I could not say that. It sounded ridiculous.

So what, then? Lie to her? Disgust at the thought reared up in my mind. No, I did not wish to lie to Bella. The one thing in my life I truly loved, and I was going to lie to her? _Again?_ After all of the deceitfulness I had created back at the store? Impossible.

All of this thought took about three seconds. Bella had not noticed any abnormality in my stone face; she was as frustrated as ever. My indifference seemed to annoy her further, and she took several steps forward in her attempt to draw the answer out of me.

"Well?" she demanded, raising her eyebrows. "Why, Edward?"

It was only a matter of time now. Soon she would realise the reason behind my previous actions and my current motionless state. Everything I had worked to build would collapse, be destroyed...

Bella took another step forward. Though I was not moving or speaking, I was still aware of how painfully close she had become over the past few minutes. If I reached out, I could touch her forehead, feel her warm skin for myself, just as I'd always imagined... But no. I could not do that. It was bad enough with her scent in such proximity to me, that the addition of warm flesh on my own would drive me insane.

Bella kept her eyes locked on mine.

"Wh– "

As soon as she had begun speaking, the realisation had come. She was so up close that I would swear I even saw the little spark ignite in her eyes. Our eyes remained boring into each other's, and for a while there was nothing but silence. Then, I began to hear the loud thumping of Bella's heart against her ribcage as her pulse quickened. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth in shock, eyebrows slightly raised. It was a mild sort of shock, something more like surprise than shock; nevertheless, her heart still beat furiously. I said nothing, not trusting myself to speak. I was afraid of what I would say if I did. Bella's hand moved to hover near her mouth in horror, and I detected a faint gasp somewhere deep in her lungs.

There. It was ruined.

Now beginning to hyperventilate, Bella struggled to make her breathing even. I did not reach out to her in aid, nor did I say anything. I did not want to make this any harder than it already was.

I imagined what Bella was thinking right this very moment. What she thought of the sudden discovery, what she was going to do about it. Briefly, her thoughts would turn to Jacob and where he fit in all of this. She would panic, but not dwell on thoughts of her husband right now...there were other pressing matters to be concerned with. Her shock at my being in love with her would quickly turn to denial. If she experienced mutual feelings, she would think how impossible it was that I loved her too. Of course, she would need confirmation on the subject, so she would form a question...

My little delusion amused me as I waited for Bella to say something. I was defiant in that I would not be the first to break the silence. I would leave that to Bella.

Finally, as if straight out of one of my fantasies, Bella uttered the fateful question. I began to feel slightly claustrophobic, as if the very forest was suffocating me. Impossible, I knew, but uncomfortable all the same. I felt the night press down on me, and Bella's question trapped me, sealing the exit. There was no escape. Of course, I could always lie to her – an inconceivable option.

"Edward," Bella began slowly, her voice shaking. She stopped to try and collect herself, and started again. She struggled for words and her voice made it seem like she was trying not to cry. "Edward...did you keep that necklace because you...I mean, do you love–"

"Please," I whispered. My eyes were closed as I said the word, and my voice held evident strain and anguish. I was ruined. The façade was gone completely now. My eyes remained closed for the next sentence. "Please don't make me lie to you." My eyes opened and I stared into the brown depths of Bella's eyes. Before I knew it, my ardent confession was spewing from my mouth before I could stop it. "I can't stand it, Bella. Every time you came into the store and we talked, and I had to try and hide my feelings from you it very nearly killed me. And seeing you with Jacob, your husband...and having to pretend that I was okay with everything when in reality I hated it. And then you didn't come back to the store for a whole week and I didn't see you, talk to you, hear your voice...I couldn't stand it. I missed you so much, Bella. _So much._ So, if you're about to ask me if I kept your necklace because I loved you, then don't. Don't make me lie to you."

And it was over. The passionate urgency with which I said my little confession still hung in the air, creating a wild electricity in the space between Bella and I. It was only a metre, but even so, it sparked and crackled silently, invisibly, intensifying with each passing second of silence. My eyes still bore into Bella's, who's now held shock and immense surprise. Or perhaps surprise was too mild a word.

Eventually, Bella seemed to begin to register what I had said. She blinked rapidly a few times, and closed her open mouth, swallowing hard. She began to hyperventilate again, and she pressed one hand to her chest as if to quell her irregular heartbeat. She shook her head in disbelief.

"N-no...you can't love me, I..." So now came the denial. Though she was not speaking anymore, her head still remained shaking from side to side, as though it was an automatic reaction. She murmured "no" under her breath occasionally, obviously still disbelieving.

Was my fervent admission not enough for her? Did I have to shout it from the rooftops? Get down on one knee and propose? Seize her and kiss her with all the emotion I was capable of? Something clicked in my head and I thought the latter option very appealing. Smiling to myself internally and imagining what would happen if I _did _kiss her, I thought of my response.

And it came to me then, so unexpectedly that I wondered why I'd never thought of it before. It was so simple. The denial had to end, and I knew of only one way to provoke this. Bella wanted confirmation? Well, she was going to get it.

I took a step forward so our bodies were inches apart.

"I love you, Bella Swan," I said softly.

There. It was done. I said it. Finally, after weeks and weeks of feeling such strong emotions and desiring to tell Bella how I really felt, I'd said it. Everything was so simple now. I felt as though a haze had been lifted from in front of my eyes, clearing my vision and putting everything in a new light. I liked how the three words sounded rolling off my tongue; I wanted to say them again.

My cheeks lifted in a sort of half-smile, half-quirk, and I nodded as I repeated the words.

"I love you."

I could hardly see Bella needing further confirmation now. Those three words, uttered with such ease and sincerity by myself, were the simplest expression of true emotion. I smiled to myself and waited for Bella to say something.

But Bella did not look like she was going to say anything any time soon. As soon as I'd expressed my love to her for the second time, she'd made an odd sound in her throat. It was a sort of half-gasp, half-sharp inhale, and her hand started to shake. Her mouth hung open and she resumed the slow shaking of her head. It seemed as though a fierce emotion – unidentified at this point – had seized her; perhaps my words were too much for her. Perhaps my expression of love had sent her mind into overdrive and now, in a few seconds, she would start to convulse.

But the way her head was shaking from side to side, the way her body shuddered, suggested that she was still disbelieving. Or maybe it wasn't disbelief, for once. Maybe Bella loved me too, and my revelation that the feelings were indeed mutual had sent her into a frenzy of severe relief – hence, the shaking and gasping. I thought back on our time and thought this theory quite probable. Throughout our numerous conversations at the clinic, and my careful observation of her body language and manner of speaking, I'd thought Bella had feelings for me as well. Of course, I could just be delusional again, but...

No, there was definitely something. It was the way she looked at me; the way she acted around her husband – so uninterested and embarrassed; the way her eyes always lit up when she saw me. Yes, I was quite confident that Bella had feelings for me. Of course, like her, I needed confirmation.

I was feeling very buoyant at present, so I decided to simply assume her love for me, and let her contradict it herself. It was so simple.

"I know you love me too, Bella," I said, a little firmly and with an air of triumph. My lips twitched and I added, very softly, "I can see it in your eyes."

And I could.

In typical, stubborn, Bella fashion, she shook her head. Her eyes still gazed into mine, and a slight wrinkle in her forehead, a glimmer in her eyes, made it look like she was about to cry. Though she still shook her head, it seemed a little half-hearted. As if she knew she loved me too, but was trying to deny it to both me and herself, and she was jus shaking her head for the sake of it; an automatic reaction. I thought this very probable.

"N-no, I...I love..."

I wanted her to finish her sentence. I wanted her to prove me right. I wanted her to say my name. For I knew she would, eventually – she loved me, after all.

I stared into her eyes, holding them locked to mine and not looking away once. She had to say it sooner or later, and I hoped the intensity of my stare would coax it out of her. Our eyes smouldered, gold to brown; and the electricity that was created before sparked again.

I could see her defences, her denial start to wear down, as mine had. The shaking of her head became less, and the look of imminent tears increased.

"I-I...I love..."

Our eyes searched the others for another second, and then Bella broke down. The tears I knew were coming spilled out from her eyes now, and she gave a sob. The crease between her eyes deepened. Something in her wail, she choking in the back of her throat, held hopeless connotations. As if she was crying because the situation was so pathetic.

Confusion reigned.

"I-I love Jacob, Edward!" Bella cried finally, the emotion bursting forth from her unexpectedly. She cried harder.

Well I certainly didn't see that coming. My name was in the sentence like I wanted, but in the wrong place... Never had I thought of Jacob this whole time and where he fit into this. I didn't think Bella would have, either.

Still sobbing, Bella continued.

"I'm married, Edward!" Ah. There it was. "I'm a married woman, and I love J-Jacob."

But I refused to believe what she was saying. I'd noticed the little stutter as she'd said his name; she was uncertain. Now that I'd confessed my love, her feelings towards Jacob were undoubtedly shaken. I took her words to be just an aloud denial to herself. My triumph remained. I was relentless.

"Jacob doesn't deserve you," I said, shaking my head. It wasn't exactly a lie. "I see how you act around him, how you talk about him. You don't really love him, do you?"

Bella fell silent. It seemed my words had gotten to her, provoked her to consider her love for her husband. A few tears still fell down her cheeks, but apart from that, she had ceased her sobbing. She stared into my eyes, the slightly worried and sad expression coming back to her face. I could almost see the conflict in her eyes – Jacob, or me. Evidently, she couldn't decide.

I moved closer to her, extremely confident. Sooner or later she would choose me, I was certain of it. I just had to give her a little nudge.

"Bella–"

"I do love Jacob," Bella interrupted in a low voice. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sniffed. She seemed to be more composed. "He is my husband, and I love him. I expect I always will." But then something clicked; I saw it in her eyes, the new sparkle in them. As if they were smiling. She blinked and whispered, "But...but I could never love Jacob like I love _you_, Edward."

I was so jubilant I felt as if I was levitating. Finally, she had said it. There was no denial, no disbelief present in her eyes now. They glowed with joy and, now that she'd said it, love. At last, we both had confirmation.

My ecstasy only increased as I moved closer to Bella, taking her face in my hands. I'd wanted to do this for so long that now it didn't seem quite real. My mind was swirling with so much emotion that a little, slightly hysterical laugh slipped from my lips before I could stop it. I pressed my forehead to Bella's – which was euphorically warm – and breathed in her scent. The thirst rose in my throat and I felt the familiar burn, but I didn't care one bit. I'd been longing to do this for so long that I would ignore anything that hindered it.

I felt the desire to say the words again. The three, simple words that I knew would be reciprocated this time.

"I love you."

"I love you, Edward."

_She loved me. _My joy peaked and I nearly fell down with its intensity.

My fantasy that I'd had before played out in my head again. I thought, with faint amusement, how much I would like to act _that _one out also. This, too, I'd been longing to do for so long. I manoeuvred Bella's head gently so that her lips were near mine. They parted, and her sweet scent heated and stirred the air around us, making me almost dizzy. Intoxicated, I moved ever closer, so that my lips grazed hers gently.

Bella pulled away. I groaned internally, miserable now that she and her scent had been taken away from me. Our faces were still inches apart, but still...

She spoke, a minute amount of uncertainty still present in her voice.

"What about Rosalie?" she asked softly. It sounded as though she was asking this out of necessity, rather that actually worrying about what would happen with Rosalie.

"Rosalie's gone," I whispered.

Bella gasped slightly and, in that moment, I pressed my lips to hers completely.

Somewhere, I heard the faint sound of my heart restart. Or, that's what I _thought _I heard. I thought of adequate words to describe the absolute bliss I experienced in that moment, and failed spectacularly. The sweet, intoxicating taste of Bella overwhelmed me and I thought I might implode with how ecstatic I felt right now. We kissed for only a second, but it felt like hours. The world had stopped spinning.

And then, the thirst came.

The monster reared on its hind legs, preparing to strike. Growling, it urged me to go one step further and take her life, taste the ambrosia I knew I wanted. Firmly, I refused the monster. As if in response, it clawed at my insides and set my throat on fire, the pleasant smouldering gone; it was now set ablaze. Just as the desire for her blood peaked, I broke the kiss.

I inhaled deeply, clearing my head with the fresh scent of the night air. Bella was gasping for breath, too. I smiled apologetically.

"I'm sorry," I said, still trying to rid my head of her scent, her taste. "It's just that...well, I run the risk of losing control and killing you whenever I'm near you. The thirst..." I trailed off thoughtfully, hoping she would understand and I wouldn't have to describe how much I wanted to kill her all the time.

I pointed to my eyes, which I knew were now pitch black.

"See?" I said, slightly ashamed.

"They're black," Bella observed, sounding thoughtful. I assumed Jacob had told her all about vampires and their dangers – actually, I expected it.

I lowered my eyes in shame and disgust at what I had almost done to Bella. A second later, I felt a warm hand on my cheek. I looked up and saw Bella staring into my eyes, a sad smile on her face. Her liquid brown irises twinkled, and I realised something.

She was comforting me.

Oh, how I loved her.

The peace was broken. From behind Bella, I heard someone – a man, from the sound of things – clear their throat with an amused "ahem". Both mine and Bella's heads snapped up, startled by the sudden appearance of another person. I'd thought we were alone in this forest – evidently, I was wrong.

I looked past Bella's shoulder and to the man who was now stepping out from the shadows and into the clearing we were in. His arms were folded over his chest, and the flexing revealed huge, burly muscles. He was smiling wickedly, as if the spectacle in front of him was extremely amusing; small, boyish dimples dented his cheeks. Almost indistinguishable against the black night, I saw a short crop of curly, dark hair upon his head. He was a vampire, I knew. No human could have such pale skin as he did, such inhumanly attractive features – such blood red eyes. There was something familiar about him, though I had no idea what it could be. I was sure I'd never met him before, and yet...

He grinned wider, showing his teeth, and took one step forward. For some reason I moved Bella so that she was at my side instead of in front of me. I did not trust this vampire at all. There was a certain menace about him that made me uneasy; I eyed his muscular arms and torso wearily.

He took another step forward so that we were but five metres apart, and he spoke.

"Hello, Edward." His eyebrows contracted into a look of amused appraisal. "I don't believe we've met."


	6. Help

I drew Bella closer to me, providing further protection from the unknown vampire.

"How did you know my name?" I asked him wearily, still suspicious.

He laughed – a loud, booming chortle.

"Ah, Edward," he said, still chuckling, "believe me, of all the things I know about you, the fact that I know your name is the least of your problems." He was abruptly serious as he said this last part.

His words unsettled me. What else did he know about me? Did he know about Carlisle, about Esme? Did he know about Rosalie and my former relationship with her? And what of Bella? The possibilities were endless, and I shuddered.

"Who are you?" I demanded.

A wry smile still remained on the vampire's face. He took a step forward, and his smile widened when he saw Bella and I shrink back.

"My name's Emmett McCarty," he replied, as if he'd been waiting for this moment for a while now.

He frowned and said, "I suppose you don't know who I am, do you?"

I did not respond. Emmett laughed his booming laugh.

"No, of course you don't know me..." he said thoughtfully, as if to himself. This statement seemed to amuse him; the dimples in his cheeks deepened.

He took another step forward and uncrossed his arms, tilting his head to the side and wagging his finger in front of his face. The cynical smile gained a dark edge.

"But," he said loudly, his finger wagging faster now, "I suppose there _is _someone you would know, now, isn't there?" He began to pace back and forth, folding his arms again and fixing a dark smile upon his face. The man – or Emmett, he called himself – was clearly a dangerous vampire, his dark eyes and brooding expression evidence of this. And yet, he still managed to look amused.

He lifted his chin into the air, narrowing his eyes and speaking in a patronising tone, as if he was trying to explain something very simple to a child.

"Now, tell me, Edward – and please, do correct me if I'm wrong – but..." Emmett advanced a few more paces and stared at Bella and me, all traces of humour gone now. "Does the name 'Rosalie Hale' mean anything to you?"

I froze. So he knew Rosalie now? My mind whirled as I tried to imagine how on Earth they could have become acquainted with each other. I racked my brains, trying to figure it out quickly – and then it came to me. I realised why this strange, new vampire was so familiar to me, why I felt the need to protect Bella from him so vigilantly. I searched my memory until I found the newspaper article I'd seen a week ago. The picture was fresh in my mind, and I examined it closer now. There, fleeing from the scene of the crime were the faint, white outlines of Emmett's muscly forearm.

He was a nomad.

My arm tightened around Bella. I remained staring at Emmett, almost mirroring his expression of distaste and enmity. But I still did not speak.

Emmett, who had been waiting for me to say something, raised his eyebrows with evident surprise. His arms were still crossed, however, so the gesticulation did not look very sincere.

"No? I thought it would have..." There was still a patronising edge to his voice; I grit my teeth. "But then, _of course,_ Rosalie doesn't mean anything to you, does she, Edward? No, I thought not..." His words, though still condescending, had a nuance of threat in them that made me shudder. Bella, too, shook where she stood.

I wanted this to end. I was tired of the cryptic speech, of the lies. I decided to just ask him outright what his business was and how he knew Rosalie. Frowning, I spoke.

"How do you know Rosalie?"

Emmett grinned. My sentence seemed to please him, as if it was the correct answer to a question after getting so many failures. I half-expected him to begin applauding.

Still smiling wryly, he said, "I told you I knew a lot about you, Cullen. Don't think I'm not well acquainted with Rosalie, now..."

He grinned wider and his eyes looked very far away, as if he was remembering something. I looked into his thoughts and felt like punching him when I did. For he was remembering – or imagining, I did not know – Rosalie, dressed in white and lying on a large, four poster bed. Light from somewhere lit the room very dimly, and so I could only make out the shadows and outlines of the bodies on the bed. Emmett, grinning wickedly, was crawling towards Rosalie, dragging her dress up her leg as he went. Rosalie's faint smile widened as he went, and she even extended her arm to help him in his task. Slowly, Emmett traced his fingers along the length of her thigh, travelling upwards...

Fuming, I wrenched myself out of his thoughts. Glaring at the vampire with a mixture of rage and disgust, I resisted an insane urge to march up to him and snap his neck. My rage must have been evident on my face, because Emmett grinned wider and winked at me. I seethed.

His face was abruptly serious and hard, and he resumed pacing back and forth around the edge of the clearing. After a while of looking at the dirt ground, he spoke.

"About a week ago, I was hiking in the woods in Tennessee. Not an unusual thing for me to be doing, so I felt completely at ease in that particular forest." He paused; it sounded like he had been rehearsing this for a while now, or had wanted to say it ever since he had first appeared. He went on, "As I was walking, I was suddenly attacked. A grizzly had sprung; all I remembered was the pain, the impact. I was dazed, confused...nothing like that had ever happened to me before." He smiled as if remembering some private joke. "I was severely injured, and I expected death.

"Out of nowhere I felt hands under me, gripping me and lifting me off the ground. I tried to see the faces of my rescuers, and I was able to keep my eyes open for a moment." Emmett frowned as he tried to remember the hazy images of his human life. "It was then that I glimpsed the blood red eyes of one of the people who were carrying me. I...I slipped into unconsciousness then, and I don't really remember anything else of the rescue."

I did not say anything. I could sense that he still had much, much more to say, so I remained silent for the time being. Sure enough, the nomad's expression lifted; his eyes became brighter, more aware, and there was even a hint of a smile in his expression. He put his arms behind his back and paced slower around the clearing.

"I, of course, remember the change," he went on nonchalantly. His mood suddenly darkened, his voice quietened. "Never had I experienced anything like that. Perhaps you remember, Edward?" He gestured to me and frowned, expecting a response. I gave him none; regardless, he went on. "The fire? The unbearable, excruciating pain?"

He dropped his hand and his eyes glazed over, as if he was looking at something very far away. His expression was one of extreme euphoria, and a hint of a smile lingered at his lips.

"And then afterwards...such _joy_!" He said softly. I was beginning to wonder whether he was speaking to me, or himself. "The feeling that coursed through me – such life and energy – was absolutely indescribable." Abruptly, he snapped out of his daze and fixed his attention on me once more. He smiled wryly. "Ironic, isn't it? That it took death itself to make me feel as alive as I feel now...

"My saviours – James and Victoria, they called themselves – introduced me to their life. They told me they were nomads and, if I would accompany them, they would show me how to hunt like they did. How to hunt humans." This notion amused him, it seemed. I gritted my teeth. "I, of course, accepted their proposal. We set off, I becoming more accustomed to my new body, new strength, and this vampire life they had given me. They gave me new life. We travelled to this area, to Harvisham, and began hunting there."

For now, it seemed, Emmett had stopped retelling his life story. It was as if we were reciting a play, and Emmett had just finished his part and it was now my turn – only, I didn't know my lines. Emmett had been so amused at the mention of hunting, and it only made my hate for him rise. I glared, and suddenly saw my opportunity to inquire about one of the things that was bothering me. What was the extent of his knowledge? Did he know _my _life story also? The thought made me shudder, but I shook it off. I had to ask.

"And Rosalie?" I prompted, still glaring. "How do you know her?"

Emmett put a hand to his chin, stroking it once before speaking.

"Rosalie was an interesting one," he began, frowning thoughtfully. "We were just outside of Harvisham, and had just finished killing a small family," – the look of amusement came back and I fumed, radiating hate – "when Rosalie came to us. She had clearly been running for a while and her distressed look suggested she was running from _something. _We were suspicious, obviously, but after she told us what she was running from" – Emmett glared at me as he spoke the phrase and I felt a sudden swoop of shame – "and that she no longer held any allegiances, we offered her a place in our coven. She accepted, and joined us on our..._hunting trips_."

The look of amusement at the mention of hunting returned, and my shame was momentarily dispelled by anger. This Emmett, this sadistic nomad, had managed to corrupt Rosalie's way of thinking and lure her into their coven. I clenched my fists as I thought of this, and stared at Emmett, shooting daggers. Emmett remained silent, the stupid half-grin still plastered on his face, looking uncharacteristically boyish for his manly form.

All those atrocities that had been committed in town, written in the newspaper, he and his coven had committed. The robbery, the fires...the murders. I shuddered as I recalled Carlisle's words to me before: _"Whatever innocent humans they murdered...I know they enjoyed it." _How right he was! I still glared at the nomad, appraising his expression of casual amusement, seething with disgust. This sadistic, ruthless, pathetic excuse for a vampire...yes, of course he enjoyed it. My stone mask of hate hardened.

Emmett's smile faded, and he rolled his eyes, much like a small child would. The ghost of a smile still lingered on his face, as if my hate for him amused him.

"Oh, don't give me that look, Edward," he said, shaking his head. His voice still managed to be belittling. "You know just as well as I do how thrilling the hunt can be. You can't possibly tell me that you didn't enjoy hunting those humans back in your early days."

I froze, though my current numbness prevented any change in my expression or stance. I was reeling at the little piece of information he'd just let slip. _How on Earth could he know about my past? _I thought, my mind buzzing. The only people who knew of my past and the rebellion I had gone on were my parents and Rosalie. How could he have known?

And then I realised. _Rosalie. _Obviously, Emmett and his coven had coaxed information out of her when she joined their coven. Unknowing of their true agenda, Rosalie had most likely submitted and told them everything about me – my past, _our _past, the events leading up to her departure...everything. I did not feel hate for Rosalie, however; if anything my loathing for Emmett grew.

Emmett did not appear to notice anything different about me, unsuspicious of any sudden epiphanies and increases in loathing, so he merely stepped forward and went on.

"Humans are odd things, Cullen," he began, as if he were teaching a classroom full of students instead of speaking to me. However, I chose to wave the slightly authoritative tone in his voice, and focus on his words. "They're so naïve, so easy to manipulate, so..._delicious_." He grinned, thinking of hunting again. He lifted his chin. "You know you liked it, Edward. The way they'd trust you so easily, slowly let their guard down in front of the pretty vampire. The way your teeth felt piercing their skin, the hot blood flowing into your mouth like nectar. And they'd succumb...so easily."

He had moved closer throughout the speech and his proximity felt suffocating. Whether it was indeed because of how close he was or because of the issue on which he was speaking, I suddenly felt light headed. I wanted him to stop. I didn't wish to relive my past, the countless humans I'd murdered...I didn't want to remember their blood, their screams, how they'd tasted. I didn't want to remember the guilt.

But who was Emmett to know of my desires? He moved even closer, smiling darkly. His voice was a deadly, soft lilt when he spoke next, the feathery quality of his tone doing nothing to dull the emphasis on each word he uttered. It was as if he had been waiting for an opportunity to torture me, to punish me for all the misery that had befallen the newest member of his coven because of me. A thin sinew was in my mind, stretched like elastic, and all Emmett's words were doing were further extending it. The sinew was my sanity, my rationality, and I knew that it could snap at any moment. Soon, Emmett's perpetual torture would overwhelm me and I would surrender, and it would snap. Soon...

"But sometimes they wouldn't," Emmett went on, oblivious to the internal battle raging inside of me. "Sometimes they'd scream and thrash and fight. Sometimes they'd beg for mercy. And all it would do would heat the blood, stir the scents...and your thirst would build and build and build...and then you just wouldn't be able to take it anymore, would you, Edward?" His torturous whisper rung in my ears and made my head spin and my stomach churn. I clenched my fists and, slowly, the sinew stretched further. "No...and then, like a shadow, you would bite. And they'd beg for death."

He leaned back, away from me slightly – the suffocating feeling lessened a fraction – and his menacing tone subsided also. It was as if he was performing an act in a play and, suddenly, the play had ended; only I had been so engrossed in the spectacle that I hadn't noticed. He returned to the usual amused, wry smile he wore constantly. Although he had – presumably – stopped torturing me, I still felt anxious and wretched.

Grinning, Emmett went on, "Admit it, Cullen. You loved it." Mentally, I refused. I did _not_ love it. I was still repeating this to myself for some reason, when Emmett spoke again, seemingly spontaneously. And what he said nearly killed me.

Inclining his head towards Bella, he murmured, "I'll bet you'd bite little pretty there if you could."

Somewhere, I heard the sinew snap.

"Stop. Just stop."

My plea amused him, as I thought it would. He grinned his stupid grin and continued speaking, his tone now mocking.

"Oh, that's right, that's right..." Emmett said, clicking his fingers as if he had just remembered something. Derision saturated his tone. "You _love"_ – he made quotation marks with his fingers and inclined his head extremely to the left – "her." He cocked an eyebrow and simpered, enjoying my misery.

He chuckled and added, "How poetic."

I – miraculously – refrained from snapping his neck. I would have dearly loved to injure this vampire in some way, but I feared for Bella and her health and sanity, so I did not. Desperately, I tightened my grasp on the last little piece of rational thought I had left and tried to form a question to get my mind off my growing desires. I made my face a mask of stone stoicism and took a deep breath before speaking.

"So, how did you do it then, hm?" I asked coldly. "How did you get Rosalie to join your coven? I know she wouldn't go willingly."

Emmett raised his eyebrows, as if some fact surprised him.  
"Actually, she did," he said, nodding. He lowered his eyebrows then, and his expression returned to the usual loathing and disdain. "After what you did to her, I can hardly blame her."

My jaw clenched. More stories of my apparent infidelity and wretchedness were coming now, no doubt. I could hear Emmett going over them in his mind, and I almost felt a new sinew generate in my mind in a pathetic attempt to protect my sanity. I knew it would not hold.

"You destroyed her, Cullen," Emmett went on, deathly serious. "You took her dead heart and ripped it out – mind the pun." His voice was growing louder, angrier. "You posed as her mate and you pretended to love her, while in truth you were having an affair with _her_!"

He stabbed a finger in Bella's direction and I felt her body tremble in my arms. Clearly, he was severely more intimidating to her then he was to me. Mentally, I cursed him for causing her any misery.

I tried to remain calm as I spoke, knowing full well that if I didn't I would lose control and the sinew would be lost forever.

"We are not having an affair," I responded in a low voice. "I...I just–"

"Love her? Is that it? You _love _the little human?" Emmett interjected forcefully, rage burning in his crimson eyes.

I composed myself and replied, just as determinedly and with new strength, "Yes. I love her."

The nomad burst into hysterical guffaws. Obviously, the idea amused him – as if I'd just uttered some sort of impossibility that I was determined to be true and he was now mocking me.

"You don't love her, Cullen. You're using her, just like you did Rosalie!"

"Shut up," I growled without thinking. A split second later my mind caught up with my actions, and I cursed myself for letting the phrase slip. The sinew was stretched so much that I was sure it had lost its elasticity by now. I was on the verge of bursting into an enraged diatribe, and I knew that if I slipped – even for a second – there was no hope of redeeming myself then. Everything inside of me urged me not to snap, to try and reel in the sinew – but I disobeyed. Angrily, I spat, "You don't know _anything_ about Rosalie."

"I know how much you hurt her," Emmett replied, his voice almost soft, yet with evident contempt. "I know how much she feels betrayed by you."

The sinew was gone. I was alone. Even Bella's warm body didn't register in my stony arms. There was just me and Emmett, and the sudden phrase he had spewed out into the atmosphere, poisoning the air with its acrid denotation. I'd known all along that Emmett was going to torture me again with stories of my past sooner or later, but even with all of my preparation, hearing it aloud was like a slap in the face. Momentarily, I forgot my anger at Emmett, the ominous quality of the man, and was overwhelmed by guilt. Compelled by this guilt, the words I spoke next were the absolute truth.  
"If Rosalie feels betrayed by me," I began very softly, my voice ringing with sincerity, "then I am very sorry for that. I never intended her to be hurt. But I–"

"You think she cares about that now, Cullen?" Emmett interrupted, enraged. My pathetic stare and his dark frown bore into each other's. "It's a bit late for apologies now, don't you think? The whole reason she left you was because she realised you were in love with _her_" – he jabbed his finger in Bella's direction again – "and she had to get away!"

My anger flared despite the guilt. Another impulsive phrase came out before I could stop it, before I could think about it.

"Oh? So what are _you _doing with her now, then?" I spat angrily. I glared, trying not to answer my own question mentally. I recalled the memory – or, possibly fantasy – that Emmett had had, and that I'd watched with disgust in his mind. I didn't want to imagine what appalling things had happened between them. An unexpected image of Emmett beating Rosalie over the head flashed into my mind, and I was disgusted. I pushed it away, and tried to fight the sickening feeling that was rising in the pit of my stomach now. I hoped my vision was wrong.

To my utter surprise, Emmett's eyes softened. They became brighter, less ominous, and they almost twinkled. I might have imagined it, but I thought I saw a flash of fondness in his expression that I did not expect to be there. The corners of his lips twitched minutely, and even this small movement was enough to bring forth his boyish dimples. For a split second, he almost looked innocent.

"The same thing you're doing with this one," he said, inclining his head towards Bella. His voice was uncharacteristically soft. There was definitely something in his tone, something that indicated deeper emotion. His voice only grew softer as he continued, "Loving her. Caring for her."

I nearly choked on my own laughter. I was unsure if that was even possible, but it felt like it. For when the nomad had uttered those two words, I'd burst into a fit of laughter so hysterical, so enormous, that it was hard to stop.

My mirth was still pungent in the air and in my tone, when I scoffed and tried to speak through my laughter.

"'_Loving her'?" _I quoted hysterically.My eyebrows were raised and my tone was dripping with sarcasm. I was absolutely incredulous; it was just so impossible.

Emmett remained stoic. He hadn't been angry when I'd mocked him; he'd just stood there, arms by his sides, staring at me and waiting for me to stop laughing. Even his thoughts were bare. I did stop laughing eventually, and I managed to compose myself enough that I could speak again. My tone was different this time – slightly annoyed, acidic, and contemptuous.

"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," I said, staring right back at Emmett. "You're just a heartless, soulless nomad who kills humans for the sake of it. You don't have the capacity to love."

Emmett was unaffected by my ridicule of him.

He shrugged and said coldly, "Takes one to know one."

I could not think of anything to say back to that, so I just glared. Several minutes of silence passed, and the atmosphere was tense. Everyone was strained with anticipation, wondering who was going to speak next and what they would say when they did. In the surrounding silence, I began to register Bella again. I was highly aware of her trembling body next to me, her racing heartbeat, and her sweaty hands. She was terrified. Instinctively, I held her tighter to my side and tried to silently assure her that everything would be okay. I hoped she got the message.

I kept my eyes fixed on Emmett. He'd noticed my protectiveness of Bella and a smile quirked his lips. He was mocking me – again. I snarled quietly, but this only egged him on. His eyes flickered to Bella and back to me again frequently, and so I read his thoughts and tried to guess his endgame through these means. My attempt failed – he was guarding his mind well – so I had to resort to eyeing him wearily. It looked as though he was going to do something soon, but I wasn't inclined to let him gain the upper hand. I blurted out another one of my questions, in an effort to keep him stationary.

"What are you doing here, Emmett? What business do you have in this particular town?" I asked sharply.

Emmett smiled (did _everything _amuse this man?) and gave a chuckle. His mind was clearly deviating down malevolent paths; his answer confirmed this.

"My coven and I are in town for the..._sport_," he replied with evident mirth. He grinned, flashing his teeth. "We find the humans here especially satiating." He winked at me, and I wished I could be sick.

I managed to restrain myself by means of grinding my teeth furiously, and I was still doing this as I spoke again, rephrasing my question.

"No," I said, correcting myself, "I mean, why are you _here_? What do you want from us?"

Emmett's grin only widened. He glanced at Bella, holding her stare for longer than necessary. I snarled quietly again, and he flashed back to me, absolutely oozing amusement. He lifted his chin and raised his eyebrows.

"Right now, you mean?" His false ignorance irritated me. He stroked his chin and made a show of seeming as though he was thinking about his answer before he said it. Finally:

"Let's just say I'm on a personal errand."

He began to walk towards me, grinning stupidly as he did. My whole body tensed, and I quickly drew Bella closer to me, further protecting her. This made Emmett grin wider, as if he knew something I did not. The nomad's muscles rippled and tensed, looking almost bone white in the faint moonlight. His menace was severely prominent as he walked forth, and I felt almost scared of him.

"This," he said while still walking towards me, "is from Rosalie."

I didn't have time to wonder what he meant. A giant fist had smashed into my jaw, hurling me across the forest clearing until I collided with the trunk of a tree. I heard the deafening snap of the spruce as it cracked and shuddered to the ground with a resounding _thud._ Shock numbed me, so I only vaguely registered Bella's shriek of "no!" when Emmett hit me. I lay at the base of the broken tree for a moment, wondering if I should move or if it would just entail more punches.

Rosalie had said in her letter that she wasn't sure if she hated me yet, that time would tell. _Evidently, _I thought to myself bitterly, _she does. _So my loathing for what had just happened to me was dimmed by the fact that I deserved whatever I got for hurting Rosalie like I did.

I noticed my bones were out of place; the force of Emmett's punch must have disarranged them. My jaw seemed to be sticking out at an odd angle, protruding severely to the left of my face. I felt no pain, of course; Emmett's punch was nothing. But still, I manoeuvred my lower jaw, with the aid of my hands, so that it snapped back into place. The _crack _of my bones echoed throughout the forest. Slowly, after I had rearranged my jaw into its original positioning, I got to my feet and brushed the leaves and dirt from my clothes.

Emmett was already moving again. He was glaring at me with a fierce hatred, a wicked smile on his face only adding to this effect. He held my gaze as he moved towards Bella – my whole body tensed – and spoke as he did.

"And this," he said triumphantly, leering, "is from me."

Bella's scream of pain came only seconds after Emmett had inflicted his force upon her. So fast that it was merely a blur of hand movements, he seized her forearm and gripped it tightly – _too_ tightly. The sickening _crack _of Bella's bone pierced the air.

And then she collapsed.

I slammed into Emmett with enough force to knock down several buildings. My every pore was burning, searing with the white flame of fury. I was blinded, deafened by it. A vicious growl erupted from my lips, rumbling in my chest and brining with it the seething fury I held inside. I could almost see the light as it exploded from within me. My vampire strength and speed – which was, I was sure, infinitely superior to Emmett's – allowed me to attack fiercer than Emmett had; the force of the collision sent both Emmett and I crashing through half a dozen trees. The sounds of their falling branches and leaves were a deafening anthem to my rage.

And that's all there was. Rage. Fury. In typical Emmett fashion, my reaction to his wounding of Bella amused him, and I managed to hear a faint chuckle emanate from him. The searing light intensified, numbing me even more, and a guttural roar ripped from my chest and rang in the air. He'd dared to touch Bella. Dared to _hurt _her. My fury grew as I thought of this, and I began slamming Emmett into the tree – the seventh; the only one we hadn't torn through – repeatedly, hoping to inflict as much pain on him as I could. What once was a faint hum of voices in the back of my head was now a deafening ringing. I couldn't hear anything else, other than the two little words my mind was growling at me repetitively.

_Kill him._

The order rang in my ears like a siren, blaring until I was numb and could not hear anything else other than that. My right hand was at Emmett's throat, gripping him tightly as I smashed his head repeatedly against the tree, my other hand clenched at my side. Out of nowhere – or maybe I was so blinded by fury that I hadn't been paying attention – one of Emmett's hands seized my free one, grasping it with iron strength. Then, so fast that it was merely a blur, his other hand gripped the hand I had at his throat, digging his fingers into my skin. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest, and he pushed against my hands.

I went flying back the way I had come, crashing to the ground with a sound loud enough to wake the dead. Disoriented momentarily, I tried to get up and get back to Emmett so I could hurt him further, but before I knew it he was on top of me. He slammed into me with brute force and began punching me repeatedly, clawing at my face and body; each movement was accompanied by a snarl. It was as if he was hunting, and I was his prey. Dazed no longer, the fury came back to me, blinding me again, and I began to defend myself. We wrestled on the ground for what seemed like hours, the never-ending chorus of snarls and growls echoing throughout the forest.

Somewhere amongst the siren of fury and the commands to kill Emmett, I heard Bella. She was moaning in pain, her soft whimpers interrupted occasionally with my name. I was amazed that she had not slipped into unconsciousness from the pain – I wished she had. I would rather she be unconscious and numb to the pain, than be moaning in agony and writhing on the floor.

I listened to my Bella crying and screaming from the pain of her arm, and my fury grew. The light intensified, almost to the point of pain, and I could see the beginnings of spots appearing in front of my eyes. The sounds of her agony only reminded me more of what Emmett had done to her, and a roar ripped through my chest. He was on top of me, punching me repeatedly and trying to claw my face off by the feel of things. I growled again and, just before his fist connected with my face, I gripped it and twisted it; the pleasant sound of Emmett's bone snapping echoed throughout the forest.

Snarling viciously, the nomad raised his other hand and was preparing to claw at me with his fingers. Quickly, and without thinking about what I was doing, I seized his index finger, and pulled. Emmett bellowed a string of profanities and collapsed on top of me. I kicked him off and opened my fist to see what damage I had done.

Writhing furiously about my palm was Emmett's finger.

I threw it aside, disgusted. It still crawled and writhed in the dirt; I forced myself not to look at it. Although I was pleased with what I had done and what pain I had caused, I was nowhere near finished. The blinding light of fury still blazed, the sirens of murder still resounded in my ears, so I stood and went over to Emmett to finish the job.

I stood over him, smiling wickedly. I cursed him mentally, and my smile only grew as I bent down to rip the rest of him apart. He still growled and writhed in pain and anger, and I thought he didn't notice me leaning over him. Chuckling to myself, I grasped his shoulders – and Emmett's eyes opened.

Roaring like an animal, he lashed out with his foot and kicked me in the stomach. The force of the attack sent me flying again, past Bella – who was still moaning in pain – and crashing into another tree, mere metres away from the one I had destroyed previously. My eyes closed for the briefest of moments, and, when they opened, I nearly cried out in horror.

Emmett had Bella in his grasp, holding her from behind in a stranglehold with one, thick arm. The other was clenched at his side. Bella was whimpering in pain and terror, and tears were streaming down her face, onto her clothes. Emmett still had a look of pain and anguish on his face, but his usual wry smile was back again also. The ignorant amusement, combined with what he had just done to Bella, made me roar.

I was on my feet in half a second, advancing with my fists clenched, when Emmett stopped me dead in my tracks.

"Don't!" he yelled, tightening his hold on Bella. I snarled and disobeyed, continuing to walk towards them with slow, deliberate steps. I stared furiously at Emmett all the while.

Emmett growled and said again, more ominously, "_Don't!_" He growled louder, and some of the amusement came back to his expression. "Don't you dare take another step, Cullen! If you come any closer I'll snap her neck."

My anger rose at the threat, and I almost disobeyed him again, but one, small whimper of terror from Bella stopped me. My eyes bore into Emmett's, and something in them suggested that he wasn't making any idle threats. Gritting my teeth so much I thought they would crumble, loathing oozing from my every pore, I reluctantly stood down.

"Good," Emmett said, as if he was praising me like a child. He nodded slowly and a wicked smile played across his lips. He kept his hold on Bella, eyes still locked onto mine, and slowly backed away from me.

It took every ounce of my self-control not to move. I so desperately wanted to stop him, finish the job I had started and rip all of his other body parts off, but I didn't. I knew what he was capable of, how strong he was, and I certainly wasn't going to let that happen to Bella any more than it already had. I glared at Emmett with an expression so livid that I was surprised he did not give Bella up and run away. Instead, he smiled wider and a hint of triumph came to his expression. His thoughts mocked me; I shut them out, disgusted.

"Heed my warning, Cullen," he said darkly, still triumphant. "Don't come looking for your little human; unless you want her dead. If I or my coven hears anything about you looking for her, then I swear we'll kill her."

He continued to back away, and had almost disappeared into the shadows of the forest. Just before he did, he grabbed Bella's hand and held it up with his dismembered one, as if to show it to me.

His hand shook and he said, wickedly amused, "I'll send you her finger."

And he disappeared into the depths.

I roared; the blinding light of fury igniting once more and hazed my vision. The sirens and vows to murder the sadistic nomad flared again, and I very nearly obeyed them this time. If it were not for the full belief that Emmett really would kill Bella, I would be halfway to him right now. Like the previous one, this threat held the same sincere connotations, the same wretched devilry. I roared again, the sound rumbling deep within my chest and ripping through with monstrous force.

The first thing that flashed into my head then was Carlisle. He was the only person I could think of that would know what to do in this situation. He was, undoubtedly, the one that would handle this with far more composure and rationality than I ever would. Snarling viciously, I turned and directed myself away from the path that Emmett had run, and forced myself to return home.

I burst through the two front doors of my house, rushing into the kitchen where my parents were seated. My mask of fury never relaxed.

Both Carlisle and Esme's thoughts were fraught with worry, and it showed on their faces when I suddenly ran into the room. Both had been wondering where I had been – Carlisle especially – and both instantly smelled the scents of Bella and another vampire on me. They noticed my clothes, and the state I was in, and all of this brought a plethora of questions to their attention. I could see they were going to speak, but I didn't give them a chance.

"Bella's gone," I said solemnly, though anger saturated my tone. I was still frowning.

My parent's inquisitive looks deepened and their thoughts buzzed. I growled and clenched my fists impatiently, cursing the fact that I now had to explain all of this to them.

"Whatever do you mean?" Esme asked, concerned.

"She's gone," I repeated. "Another vampire – one of the nomads shown in the newspaper – came and took her."

It wasn't a very detailed explanation, but it was the best I could come up with in my current state. The light still blinded me, and it was hard to work past it and think clearly; especially since the only thing I _could _think of was the fact that Bella was gone. _She's gone..._my mind repeated over and over. I growled quietly again and my fists tightened. No. I would get her back.

"A nomad?" Carlisle repeated, puzzled.

I nodded.

"Yes. His name was Emmett something, and he has a coven..." I began. I sighed and recounted everything to my parents, leaving out the parts about Emmett's acquaintance with Rosalie and her involvement in his coven. I thought I could spare them that part, at least; this was enough of a shock to them as it was. They were, of course, puzzled as to _my _affiliation with Bella. They were unknowing of my infatuation with her, and the fact that she and I were now romantically involved, so it was hard to explain it to them quickly, while still providing detail. They did not comment on it further after I had, but I heard Esme's mental congratulations all the same.

When they asked me about how Emmett knew of Bella, I simply had to lie. I just couldn't let them know that it was because of Rosalie that Bella had been taken. To see Esme's face if I did... It was simply too horrible.

I told them of the fight between Emmett and I – explaining my clothes and their tattered state – and the injuries he had inflicted upon Bella. My fury was very evident as I explained this, and my impatience to find Bella only grew stronger as I recounted past events.

"So we have to find her," I finished finally, anger still present in my voice.

To my intense surprise, Carlisle shook his head.

"You can't, Edward," he said sombrely.

My eyes bulged. I could not believe he had said such a thing.

"What do you mean, 'you can't'?" I said, incredulous and hysterical. I realised I was on my feet.

"You can't go searching for her," Carlisle replied, ever so calmly. "You said that Emmett vampire would kill her if you tried. And, given your apparent love for the woman, I don't think you would particularly like that, Edward."

My fist came down on the table, leaving a dent that perfectly moulded to the shape of my hand.

"I can't just sit here and do nothing!" I protested, furious.

"How exactly are you going to find her, Edward?" Carlisle asked in return, still calm and soft. "How are you going to even get near her without Emmett and his coven finding out?"

I hesitated – I hadn't thought of this. My anger, however, prevented any rational or logical thought, so I responded with the first thing that came into my head.

"I'll just have to make sure they don't find me," I said, a little softer.

Carlisle didn't respond, but his stare made me frantic to explain myself.

"I'll go at night, so I'll have the cover of dark. They probably won't even expect me to come." I'd had almost two decades to perfect my lying abilities, and yet I couldn't even manage to lie to myself. Carlisle, too, was not convinced, so I hastily continued. "They won't catch me, Carlisle."

My father said nothing for a while. It was an extreme disadvantage that I needed his approval on doing anything that concerned other, hostile vampires, but I knew it was vital. I certainly didn't want to disgrace my family. I waited impatiently, my anger still blazing and blinding, hoping that Carlisle would allow me to get Bella back.

"How do you think you're going to feel if you search for Bella, and the nomads find out, and they kill her?" I said nothing. "You won't be able to live with yourself, Edward. You'll know it was your fault and you'll spend the rest of eternity wanting to go the same way as your Isabella." Carlisle's tone was soft, but I could see the concern for my wellbeing in his eyes.

At present, I couldn't care less about myself. My vow to find Bella was still ringing in my mind, overwhelming everything else, so I couldn't think of a proper way to respond to my father. I knew he was right, but my determination was so fierce that I was willing to do anything to search for Bella.

"They won't catch me," I repeated firmly, staring into my father's eyes. It was black to gold, devil to angel; son to father. I waited for Carlisle's acquiescence with burning anticipation.

Looking like it was the hardest thing he ever had to do, my father finally nodded, and sent me a mental _yes._ My sigh of relief was blissful.

"But please," Carlisle began again, concern filling his eyes, "please, Edward, wait until tomorrow night. Think it over properly before you act."

My impatience and ire still reigned, and I almost disagreed. But then I saw Esme, and she put a hand lightly on my arm; pleading. I closed my eyes, wondering how I was going to last another day without knowing where Bella was and doing nothing about it. I thought it very likely that I would go insane. I pursed my lips, eyes still closed, and forced myself to consider the suggestion, for my parent's sake if anything. Eventually, their logic overwhelmed mine, and the impatience subsided a little. Keeping my eyes closed and my lips pressed into a tight line, I reluctantly nodded.

_____________________________**************____________________________

Finally, after what seemed like a week instead of a day, the next night came. I didn't have to explain where I was going to my parents as I ran out of the house; they knew all too well. They'd accepted my decision to find Bella over the next day, though they were still worried and bothered with what I was about to do. They were highly concerned, not just for my safety, but for Bella's also. So their farewells to me before I left the house were intense and anxious.

_Please, please be safe, Edward. _Esme grasped me by the shoulders and looked deep into my eyes, desperate. _Bring yourself and Bella back in one piece_.

I promised I would, and hugged my mother tightly. She kissed me on the forehead, and wished me well one last time, before letting me go.

Next was Carlisle.

_Don't do anything rash, Edward. _Carlisle's stern voice was laced with concern. _These nomads aren't exactly amiable, so you'd do well to be on your guard. Be safe, please, and come back. Do you understand?_

_Yes, dad._

Carlisle gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder, and then left me be.

I set off for the town, deciding I would start there as it was the most logical way to find Bella. The paths that branched off from the town led to Harvisham, and onwards to other neighbouring villages and towns. The town also led to the forest where I usually hunted, and the place where Bella had first been taken. I snarled at the memory.

The night was strangely quiet as I walked. There was nothing; no humans – for which I was deeply grateful –, no animals, no sounds from other villages. Not even the wind blew. Nothing. The silence, while I usually liked it, pressed down on me tonight, and left me feeling claustrophobic and anxious. I kept my head down and walked faster towards the path that led to the forest.

My determination to find Bella was higher than ever, now that I was actually beginning the search. I hadn't really formulated a proper plan in my head on how to go about finding Bella without being discovered, so my anxiety and impatience was immense. All I had, really, was hope – a pathetic thing to base my lover's life upon. Of course, I would do everything in my power to remain undiscovered, but these nomadic vampires were really something else. From what I knew of one in particular, and what Carlisle had managed to find out about them, I doubted they would have any particular hesitation to kill Bella if (God forbid) the situation ever arose. I tried not to think about what they could be doing to her as I walked; it was simply too horrible. As per usual, my mind would not let me rest for any longer than a few minutes, so the unwanted, intrusive thoughts plagued me once more after I'd shook them away.

I felt my sanity declining, so I tried to focus on what I would do once I found Bella. More than that, what I would do once I found _Emmett. _His dimpled, boyish face grinned at me from the darkness, mocking me with its wicked amusement; I growled quietly. I vowed to rip him apart, limb from limb, and to enjoy it. Oh, how I would enjoy it...

I turned the corner onto the path that led to the forest, keeping my slow pace. I desperately wanted to break into a run and find Bella faster, but I was still in town – and town meant humans. Town meant exposure. As long as I was here, I was severely limited in my vampiric abilities.

I still had my head down, and was still joyfully imagining how I would destroy Emmett and his cohorts, when I heard a twig snap. The sound was abrupt and strange in the overpowering darkness, and I looked up – straight into the eyes of another person.

I stood rooted to the spot, unable to say anything; such was the severity of my shock. The eyes were wild and furious; closely resembling what mine must have looked like as I was wrestling Emmett last night. The night became blacker, more suffocating, and the silence seemed to further infuriate the person standing opposite me. My gaze travelled to his clenched fists, and, through my peripheral vision, I saw the fevered eyes bulge.

"Hello, Jacob Black."

My soft greeting was diminished in the slight breeze, taken by the darkness and used to further intensify the suffocating effect. My words seemed to incense Jacob, for his fists clenched tighter and his breathing became heavier. My shock and horror only increased as he responded to me.

"Edward." The word seemed to have been forced from his mouth, as if it required great effort to pronounce that one expression. His voice was thick with loathing and menace, and I could almost feel the abhorrence rolling off him in waves.

My silence triggered further infuriation in the man, it seemed, and he began to tremble. His fists shook, his eyes were wild, and a deep rumbling sound began to emanate from his chest.

Helplessly, I watched as the werewolf began to phase.


	7. Love Thy Enemy

There was nothing I could do to stop it. The only person that could halt the phasing from human to werewolf was the werewolf himself; and it didn't look like Jacob was particularly inclined to stop himself. I could only watch as his body continued to shake violently, small growls ripping through him every so often. The very ground began to shake, trembling from Jacob's force; I eyed him wearily.

Jacob's eyes were narrowed, filled with rage. His hands still remained clenched at his sides, tendons obvious against his skin, quivering wildly. The rest of his body seemed to be vibrating, moving ever so slightly but with the force to make it seem much more than it was. I wondered why he had not phased yet and attacked me; he was restraining himself, it seemed. Though I hated the man, I admired him at present, as it took great strength and willpower to control oneself when phasing. I would never admit this, of course.

"Edward," Jacob said, again seeming as if the one word took great effort and was spoken against his will. I almost felt sorry for him.

_Almost. _What he said next dispelled any pity I held for Jacob Black.

"Where...is...Bella?" he asked in three, short grunts. His shaking became more severe.

I stiffened, though I was already frozen. Clearly, he had noticed Bella's recent absence and, naturally, was pointing the blame in my direction – for lack of any other. I knew I was at a disadvantage here, but I was determined not to let him derail the conversation, as I knew he would. I'd already postponed searching for Bella; I wasn't going to let Jacob make me wait any more than I already had.

"I don't know," I replied softly. It was a perfectly true statement – I really had no idea where Bella could be. I thought of Emmett again and my anger flared. I growled quietly.

Jacob's thoughts revealed he thought I was deceiving him. Mentally, I sighed; did he not trust anyone? His shaking became worse, and, subsequently, his control even higher. I was bewildered as to why he would be restraining himself so. He had been odious and hostile towards me from the moment we'd met, had he not? I struggled to understand.

I couldn't take any more of this. I could not continue to stand here, waiting for Jacob to phase and attack me, while Bella was still out there, possibly being tortured – or worse. I advanced a few paces, and Jacob tensed even more.

"Please, I really have to go," I muttered as I walked towards him. I tried to move past him, but I didn't get further than his shoulder. Jacob's hand shot out, gripping me by the throat and shoving me hard into a building wall. My head slammed hard into stone, and in moments I felt Jacob's hot breath on my throat as he leaned in; his face was inches from mine. His breathing came heavier with each passing second, and this time I really did feel the burning hate singe my skin.

"I'll be honest with you, Edward," he hissed into my ear, his voice livid and acidic, "I'm quite torn between ripping your limbs off and throwing you fifty metres down the street." His tone became more polite, but was still covered in menace. "Ordinarily, I would have phased by now and be in the process of snapping your neck, but I'm not going to do that. I know Bella wouldn't want it."

I waited as he held me by the throat, still breathing heavily and shaking fiercely. I tried to remain calm as I thought about what he knew of Bella; I held my breath to try and block out the werewolf smell. Jacob closed his eyes and a fierce battle raged on inside his mind; desire against will. For a moment, Jacob's shaking became the worst it had ever been; the hand that was gripping my throat was trembling so much that even _I _shook, his force was so great. He squeezed his eyes tighter together, and I thought desire had won.

But then, abruptly, the shaking stopped. Though it had ceased, Jacob's breathing was still ragged and uneven – he struggled to control it.

He kept his eyes clenched shut as he whispered at my ear, "Consider this your lucky day, Edward."

And he released me.

I breathed in somewhat cleaner air as Jacob stepped back and allowed me my freedom. I put a hand to my throat, lightly feeling the place where Jacob had clutched me with his overheated hand. My skin was still warm.

"Now, I'll ask you again," Jacob said, in a tone of forced calm, "where is Bella?"

I sighed, exasperated. Every moment I spent proving my candour to Jacob, Bella was still lost and suffering. I was getting impatient.

"I already told you. I don't know," I replied, meeting Jacob's cold glare with my own. We tried to stare the other down for what seemed like hours, neither of us saying a word. The silence was thick with tension.

_He's lying, I know he is...he's probably got her in hiding...I'll bet that's where he's off to now! Oh, that rotten, lying, bloodsucker... _Jacob's thoughts came to me through the silence. His assumptions on where I was going, and why I was going amused me with their absurdity. I fought back a smirk.

"I'm not lying," I said coldly, my face serious once more. Jacob flinched; did he know of my mind reading abilities? Another moment of tension passed, and I thought it safe to move without fear of being attacked at the jugular. I started forward, lightly brushing past Jacob and feeling the heat of his body singe my skin once again. I shuddered, and walked faster, keeping a human pace. I hadn't gotten a few steps away from Jacob when he called after me.

"Bella's been missing for a day now," he said loudly, as if to no one in particular. I knew the message was meant for me. "Tell me, do you know anything about that?"

I stopped walking, my impatience reaching its peak. This never-ending barrage of questions and accusations was beginning to annoy me, and I wondered if I could take any more. Was it not enough that I'd professed my innocence most vehemently, in every manner? How much more did he need? These and countless other questions ran through my mind as I stood, and I began to consider telling Jacob the whole story. Perhaps not about mine and Bella's relationship – although it seemed he somehow already knew of that – but about her abduction. My mind was in a dichotomy; to tell or to not. He could prove to be useful in the search for Bella; it always helped to have an extra person. And besides, if I didn't, Jacob's suspicion would only grow stronger, and the questions more immense. He could lose control and phase again...

I forced myself to make a decision. If I didn't do it soon, I knew I never would. Feeling suddenly weary – emotionally, of course; it was physically impossible any other way – and with my impatience reigning, I slowly turned to face the werewolf. I sighed.

"Bella was taken," I began slowly, simply. I eyed Jacob's expressions, and read his thoughts for any sudden change in mood or will. He was confused by my statement, but seemed stable; I continued. "Recently, a coven of my kind" – I heard Jacob think _leeches _and I snarled – "_vampires_, came through here. One of the members came and visited Bella and I not two nights ago. We were...interrogated, and the vampire took Bella." My voice was abruptly solemn. "I don't know where.

"I'm on my way now to try and find her. The vampire did say that if I searched for her they would kill her, but...but I have to do something." It angered me to recall the night when Bella was taken, but I forced the murderous thoughts out of my head for a moment. I could not allow it to cloud my mind at present, especially when Jacob was so unstable. I continued speaking; noticing the slightly authoritative and firm tone my voice had taken on. "Now, you can come along and help me find her, if you want, or you can let me go alone. Either way, I'm going."

I paused to let the words sink in. Naturally, Jacob's thoughts were becoming increasingly puzzled, and I thought I detected angry connotations in them. His mind was buzzing so fast that I gave up trying to read it, so I waited silently for him to compose himself. After a while of Jacob's unresponsiveness, I decided to prompt him a little.

"So what will it be, Jacob?" I asked, a little loudly. Jacob continued to stare at me with cold, black eyes. "Are you in, or out?"

This time, Jacob's anger became apparent. It sparked in his eyes, and I thought he was going to start shaking again. He trembled slightly, but he did not phase as I feared he would.

What he said next was entirely unexpected.

"You and Bella were _alone together_?" he cried angrily, incredulously. His hands became fists again. "Why? What were you doing?"

I ignored his demands. There was no way in Hell I was going to explain what had happened in the forest to _Jacob, _no matter how much he yelled. Needless to say, the fact that he was furious about Bella and I being alone together and not about his wife's abduction, clearly stated what path his mind had taken. I nearly snorted.

I remained indifferent.

"In or out?" I repeated slowly, my disposition cold and hard. Jacob and I remained glaring at each other, our hate mutual. I heard Jacob consider my proposal, and, though he was still disapproving and loathsome towards me, the fact that he recognised defeat was potent amongst his thoughts. The silence was overwhelming as I waited for Jacob to respond.

_In._

It seemed Jacob's quiet thought was meant for me, though it may very well have been for himself. If it was _not _the latter, then it meant Jacob knew of my mind reading capabilities; I snickered at this.

Enough time had been wasted with this petty fight. Bella could be anywhere, suffering anything, and yet here I was standing opposite a werewolf who was reluctant to search for his wife alongside me. I turned slowly, gesturing minutely with my hand for Jacob to follow. With another furious glare, he walked towards me. After a moment's hesitation, we began walking.

The silence was uncomfortable. Generations of enmity between vampires and werewolves seemed to come forth in the air now, thickening the atmosphere with its influence. That and the personal hate between me and Jacob Black made everything suddenly very suffocating. We kept walking, and I was beginning to get annoyed with Jacob's pace. I would have dearly loved to break into a vampiric sprint, but Jacob's lesser abilities prevented this; much to my dismay. I certainly wasn't going to carry him.

It was awkward as we walked. Whether it be because of my relationship with his wife, or merely just because neither of us knew what to say, I knew not. Regardless, the tension was high; we kept a considerable distance apart as we walked together.

Finally, Jacob broke the silence.

"My...my pack..." he began, with his eyes to the ground. I eyed him wearily. Tentatively, he raised his head to look at me. "I can get them to help out, if you want."

Though I was relieved that Jacob had finally said something to me that wasn't derogatory, it did nothing to lessen my absolute displeasure in his suggestion. It was bad enough travelling with one werewolf. I shuddered to think of what it would be like with Jacob's entire pack.

_Then again, _my conscience countered, _it might help find Bella._

This, I could not argue with. The added eyes of Jacob's werewolf friends would surely help find Bella faster; it might even prove useful if there was a fight. _If it helps Bella..._I repeated to myself over and over, to lessen the loathsomeness of the idea, if anything.

I gave a half shrug, and inclined my head.

"Whatever helps, I suppose," I replied in a low voice. Jacob nodded in response.

We lapsed back into silence. I could see the forest in the distance, smell the pine and oak wafting from the trees, and was pleasantly basking in this ambience (anything to get away from the uncomfortable silence) when Jacob turned off the path onto another. I stopped walking, and was about to ask him where he was going, when I remembered; his pack. Jacob, too, stopped and looked back at me, wondering if he should gesture for me to follow him. I looked back towards the forest and breathed in the woody scent again, unwilling to leave it behind.

_If it helps Bella..._

My previous thought came back to me, and I let logic get the better of me. Hoping that Jacob's path would lead me to Bella, I reluctantly walked after him. Jacob started walking again once I was at his side, and the atmosphere returned to its awkward, uncomfortable state.

It was a matter of minutes before Jacob broke the silence again. I reluctantly listened to him.

"Can I just ask you one question?" he demanded, a crease between his eyes.

"Since you've already begun, I doubt I have any choice in the matter," I replied quietly.

Jacob threw me a dirty look. I smirked. He hesitated, the crease deepening, and I heard him wonder how to form his question.

"Why did you do it?" he prompted softly, though I could still hear his hate for me in his tone. "Why did you have an affair with my wife? Why?"

I sighed, the feeling of weariness I'd sensed before coming back. I really didn't want to explain this to Jacob, the husband of my lover, and yet I felt the question was inescapable. I didn't want to go into the complexities of the relationship, however; I gave him the simple answer.

"Because I love her," I replied after another sigh. Jacob looked as though he was going to respond, but I gave him no chance. "And, by the way," I added, louder this time, "we're not having an affair. It's just...I don't know...complicated."

Jacob scoffed and muttered quietly, "You have no idea."

I wasn't sure if he intended me to hear that. After a pause of silence, he spoke again, this time louder and with definite infuriation.

"What are you going to do when you finally lose control and you hurt her? Or worse?" he demanded, staring at me with a frown. "What will you do when her blood becomes too tempting for you, the serenade too sweet, and you bite her? Change her? Tell me, Cullen, how you'll be able to live with yourself then."

I waited until he had finished speaking to reel at what he'd said. Since when did Jacob Black know of the temptations one's blood poses for a vampire? He knew nothing, _nothing_ of serenades. My shock did not allow me to speak until I had fully recovered myself, and even then I did not answer his question.

"How do you know about that?" I demanded in return, my own brow creasing.

Jacob was slightly smug as he responded.

"I know a little about vampires," he replied quietly.

I seethed. If Jacob thought I was going to hurt Bella, or change her, then he was sorely mistaken. I didn't even trust myself enough to be close to Bella, let alone _bite _her. But I could see where he was coming from. Her blood was so tantalising, so sweet, that even _I _was surprised I hadn't attacked her yet. Briefly, I imagined it – and shuddered. I thought of how to explain to Jacob how utterly sure I was that I would never attack Bella, and struggled to find the right words.

"I'm not going to...do any of that," I began softly, still unsure of how to reply. "I wouldn't let myself lose control around her...she means too much to me. I'd rather die than hurt her." There was silence once again, but only briefly. Jacob's expression was indecipherable; I felt like I needed to keep speaking. I went on, "I'm sorry, Jacob. I...I can't control who I fall in love with." I paused, wondering if I should say the last part. "And neither can Bella."

This shook Jacob. He stiffened, but kept walking, his thoughts a jumbled mess. He threw a furtive glance at me, and I saw him glare. I listened to his mind, carefully evaluating each thought and I would have sworn I heard Jacob reach some sort of understanding with what I was saying. This surprised me, and the unfamiliar feeling of admiration for Jacob rose again; I pushed it away, rather ashamed. I should not feel admiration for this man. It went against everything I thought of him, and all he thought of me. And yet, I found the feeling slowly creep back.

I shook my head in disbelief, and the silence became ever more encompassing.

The only sounds were our footsteps upon the dirt ground, occasionally interrupted by a _crunch _as one of us stepped on a discarded bit of rubbish. Each of us was lost in our thoughts; I knew Jacob was, all too well. The path we were on seemed to stretch forever, continuing in a straight line until it was swallowed by the darkness and I could not see any more. I wondered if Jacob was paying attention enough to ensure we were going in the right direction. I considered asking him, but his head was bent and he was deep in thought, so I decided not to bother him. I sighed, and at that moment, Jacob spoke; again. Whether it was out of habit and he just felt the need to speak, or because he really was interested in making conversation, I didn't know. But something in his voice commanded attention.

"I remember when Bella loved me," he said quietly. His head was still towards the ground and it seemed as though he was speaking to himself. But then he looked up. "We played together as infants, grew up together." He seemed very pleased with this fact – almost triumphant. He smiled slightly. "When Bella turned eighteen her father, Charlie, began to worry. In a society such as this one, a woman who has no suitor by the time she reaches adulthood is urged to find one immediately. Charlie begged her to find someone and, naturally, recommended me for the role." At this his smile faded, and he looked almost sad. "They were good times, those... Before Bella and I silently realised we weren't right for each other, I truly believe we loved one another."

He looked me straight in the eyes and smiled sadly for a moment, but then dropped his head and resumed musing.

The most curious feeling overwhelmed me then. It was something I'd felt before, for another person, but even then I'd never thought I would experience it in those circumstances. The familiarity of the feeling hit, and this only made it stronger. My stomach plummeted, and suddenly the silence felt even more suffocating than usual. My limbs felt heavy, and a deep crease formed between my eyes.

It was pity.

I knew exactly what Jacob was feeling. Well, perhaps not me, but Rosalie certainly did. To be helplessly in love with someone, and have your feelings unreciprocated. To believe that the other had absolutely no idea that you were in love with them, when in reality the other knew full well. And for both people, completely silently, to realise that they were not right for one another. That, at least, I knew of. I'd experienced that feeling for two years.

My hand twitched, and I felt the ridiculous urge to reach out to Jacob and pat him comfortingly on the shoulder. I shook my head incredulously, frightened by my urges. Since when did I feel sorry for _Jacob_, a _werewolf_? I shoved my hand into my pocket, determined to rid myself of the feeling. I felt I should say something, if not to cheer him up, but to break the overwhelming silence.

Hesitantly, I asked, "Have you imprinted on her?"

It was the wrong thing to say. Jacob's head snapped up and he turned to look at me with wide eyes. His face had turned from an expression of deep sadness to a mask of shock and incredulity. He narrowed his eyes.

"How do _you _know about imprinting?" he asked in return.

I smiled wryly, with an expression very similar to the one worn by Jacob previously when I'd asked him about vampires.

"I know a little about werewolves," I replied quietly. Jacob remembered his words and smirked.

But then he looked down again. He kept his gaze on a leaf that was blowing in the wind, and he did not respond for a while. I searched his thoughts and found something very strange; shame.

Jacob kept his head down, only glancing up at me for a second. He turned his head to the side, away from me.

"No...No, I haven't imprinted on Bella," he mumbled awkwardly, his voice thick with shame. The pity rose inside me again, unexpected and powerful. "I do love her...not enough to imprint, I suppose, but I do." He paused, and then mumbled pathetically, "I know Bella doesn't love me."

At these words, another peculiar emotion rose inside me. My head snapped to the side, and I looked at Jacob with my brow furrowed. I realised I was angry. Angry at what he'd said; how untrue it was. I was angry at his shame, frustrated that he felt that way. My mind defended him against his own words.

"That's not true," I said firmly, almost harshly. Jacob turned to look at me with sad eyes. "She _does _love you. I know she does."

Jacob shrugged unenthusiastically.

"Maybe," he agreed nonchalantly. But he locked his eyes to mine and added quietly, "But not like she loves you." He dropped his head again.

More silence. It had been like that for most of the journey, and yet now it seemed strange and claustrophobic to me. I looked at Jacob surreptitiously, and considered what he'd said last. My hand twitched again, and the urge came back. I thought I should say something.

But I couldn't bring myself to disagree with him.


	8. Battle

We finally reached the end of the path, and I could see a small house set amongst tall trees. Each window glowed with the light inside, and I could hear the faint hum of voices piercing the air. I also noticed the smell of werewolf stirring in the air – smells that were different to Jacob's. I groaned mentally. This was going to be unpleasant.

"Just a little more," Jacob said wearily. I glanced at him. His eyes were to the ground, and his shoulders were slumped. He was miserable.

My hand twitched again.

The moon loomed, bright and circular overhead as we reached the front porch. Jacob hesitated, before knocking politely. My anxiety and impatience heightened as we stood and waited, and I wondered why Jacob did not just enter; it was his house, after all. But then the door flew open, and I was greeted with seven pairs of angry eyes. Jacob stiffened.

"Where the hell have _you_ been?" one of them – a tall, gangly male – asked. Another boy – a muscular one – next to him sniggered.

Jacob took no notice of the muscular one. He stared at the one who had spoken with an expression of solemn frustration, his eyes hard, fists clenched.

"You know where I've been," he replied quietly, keeping the boy's gaze.

Confusion struck me forcefully. This had to be some sort of werewolf issue, for if it wasn't, my reading of their thoughts would have made some sort of sense. I gave up on deciphering the extremely aloof conversation passing between Jacob and the werewolf, and turned my notice to all the glaring pairs of eyes that were fixed on me. Aside from the boy Jacob was talking to, and the sniggering one next to him, every single one of the werewolves was staring at me with a mixture of immense distaste and bemusement. One of them, the only female present, had her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. The loathing was so evident on her face and in her stance that I could almost feel it rolling off her in waves; I looked away.

"Any luck?" the muscular boy asked. He looked amused, and he trembled from trying to stifle his laughter. The same look of frustration returned to Jacob's eyes and the boy seemed very pleased with this; as if he knew what Jacob was going to say before he said it.

"Obviously not," Jacob replied dryly. The boy sniggered again.

Something in their tone hinted at a particular task that Jacob had failed at, something that was confined only to the pack – yet somehow concerned me. They would not be glaring at me so if I wasn't somehow involved with this unknown mission. Albeit they were werewolves, and it was in their nature to hate my kind, there was something in the way they looked at me, something that inclined I was to be hated for a reason other than what I was. It was as if I was some sort of unexpected hindrance in their plan, some intolerable nuisance that would – in addition to Jacob's assumed failure of sorts – infuriate them further.

I tried not to look at the livid female again as I scanned the rest of the crowd. All of their eyes were still upon me; I began to feel uncomfortable. I forced myself to look away, and focus my attention on Jacob and the muscular boy he was staring at so intensely. His fists were still clenched, and I half-expected them to start trembling again. He was staring at the boy so fiercely and so intensely that I wondered how the boy was still chortling. He stared right back, though not with the same intensity that Jacob was. There was silence between them, and from the way that Jacob was staring at him, it seemed as though he was trying to communicate something with his eyes. Considering that previous endeavours to decipher the werewolves' thoughts had been in vain, I didn't try and attempt in this time. I observed the two wearily, trying to figure out what Jacob was attempting to tell the other boy, without making myself obvious. I thought I had the gist of the 'conversation', when the muscular one burst out laughing.

His eyes scrunched closed and he held one hand to his stomach, laughing uncontrollably. The other werewolves were unmoved; they remained hard and stoic. Jacob did not join in with the boy's laughter; if anything he intensified his stare. The muscular one continued laughing until he was merely trembling, and he let out an audible sigh before speaking, his eyes bright and amused.

"You're a bit ambitious there, Jacob!" he said, still trembling with silent laughter. Abruptly, his brow furrowed into a look of mock solemnity. "Don't you think we might need to be a little..._different _to accomplish _that_?" He sniggered yet again.

Jacob remained cold. His fists clenched tighter and his jaw clenched.

"Don't tempt me," he said in a low, angry voice.

The boy sniggered for a fourth time.

There was silence again, and this one was even more uncomfortable than before. Perhaps it was because there was no silent communication passing between the sniggering boy and Jacob, thus there was nothing to dampen the extreme hatred I felt – and heard – radiating off every werewolf in the vicinity. They all glared at me with cold eyes, most of all the female. The anger sparkled in her eyes and her jaw was set; she had not moved once. She remained staring at me, her thoughts buzzing in a whirlwind of furious insults. For a while I stared back at her, meeting her contemptuous expression with my confused and uncomfortable one. Her stare intensified, and I blinked rapidly a few times – I looked away, suddenly extremely self-conscious.

My reaction to her stare must have triggered something inside of her; she spoke.

"So...is that the one?" she asked icily to no one in particular, still not looking away from me.

It seemed to have been for Jacob.

"Yeah," he replied, his voice sounding apprehensive, "that's the one."

The one. I pondered on the phrase, tried to figure out why it was so significant to me. In the sentence it seemed esoteric, and yet I felt that this was another one of the private jokes that was confined only to the werewolf pack. Indeed, most of the werewolves were now staring at me with even more hatred and confusion than before, and I could only give acclaim to the two words that both Jacob and the female had uttered. They were contemptuous, obviously; otherwise they would not have been spoken with such an air. It was as if it was a horrid nickname that the wolves had given me, something that would allow them to speak of me freely and with hatred, without actually saying my name. I grimaced slightly, and then something else hit me.

The significance of the phrase was not so because of the werewolves hatred, but rather because it hinted at them having a knowledge that was previously confined to Jacob and I. It was the knowledge that I was the one that had had the affair with Bella. And there, even as I thought the sentence, the words sprung up again.

_The one. _

Fresh realisation hit me with a startling air, and I had to look down to hide the spark in my eyes. I frowned slightly, wondering how on Earth they could've known. I'd had no interaction with them, and neither had any of my family. Bella could not possibly have told them, for it was certainly not in her best interests...

So that left but one person.

Jacob.

I grit my teeth and raised my head, turning it a fraction so I could look at Jacob. His eyes were upon the female that was glaring at me, and his eyes were filled with what seemed like anxiety and embarrassment. I could think of no reason for this, so I did not allow my mind to ponder on it unnecessarily. Frowning slightly again, I turned my attention to the female once again. Her eyes had not left me.

"Sorry, but will you let them in already? It's letting the heat out," one boy – who was slightly shorter but rather resembled the female – said. He was gangly, rather resembled Jacob, and always seemed to have a grin on his face; even now, when his expression was one of solemnity.

A tall male that had been quiet for an immeasurable amount of time seemed to come to life now. He blinked a few times and straightened, uncrossing his arms from their folded position. He cleared his throat.

"Yes, of course," he said, sounding a little dazed. He gestured with his hand into the house, obviously beckoning Jacob and me to come inside. "Come in."

Jacob shifted a little from foot to foot before stepping inside, but I hesitated. I didn't appreciate the glaring werewolves that were so determined to hate me, and I didn't much like the idea of entering a house that was full of them. But, as Jacob was already in the hallway and several of the wolves were following after him, I had no choice but to go inside as well. I shot a furtive glance at the frowning female before reluctantly stepping over the threshold.  
Contemptuous eyes followed my every move as I made my way to where Jacob was. It seemed we were in the kitchen. The small room was covered in pale tiles, contrasting oddly with the dark, wooden floor. A light overhead cast a dim glow onto the long, mahogany wood table situated in the centre; the light barely touched the walls. Jacob was seated at the table – he looked up when I entered. I took a seat on his right, suddenly feeling very claustrophobic and very uncomfortable.

The rest of the werewolves gathered around the table; all except one. The boy that resembled the female took a seat directly opposite mine, flashing me a tentative smile before looking down. I was puzzled, but did not ponder on it further. The female stood behind the boy, crossing her arms and sniffing loudly. The quiet male stood to her left. The gangly boy stood far away from the seated one, towards the left of the table, and his sniggering friend was next to him. Another male stood to the right of the sniggering one, his face half obscured by shadows. The last male, one shorter than the muscular one, was on Jacob's left, though he was not seated. He, too, had his arms folded.

"So? What happened?" asked the quiet one after a pause.

I heard Jacob's thoughts turn frantic, then apprehensive, then defeated so quickly that it was hard to keep track. I was bewildered, and began to wonder about why his emotions were in overdrive, but stopped when Jacob answered.

"Well, I went out to find her," he replied quietly, "and I ran into him." He gestured to me.

My mind swirled at Jacob's words. I'd frozen with shock, literally a stone statue as I sat and reeled.

_Jacob had been looking for Bella, too. _

It was no coincidence that I'd run into him in the town before, no coincidence that he'd been suspicious of me (although, he was suspicious of me even before that). He might have even planned it. I looked back and recalled the moment when I'd asked for his assistance in finding Bella, and now noticed how nonchalant he was about travelling with me in the search for his missing wife. And his suggestion to find his pack...I was certain that was planned, too.

Intrigued greatly now, I listened to the thoughts of the surrounding werewolves in an attempt to divulge more information.

_Idiot. I knew I should have gone with him. _The cold voice of the female came to me. I glanced at her, and saw that she was rolling her eyes.

_He's so freaking white! It's weird. _The sniggering boy was squinting at me, obviously mesmerised by my skin. I resisted a chuckle.

_That smell is absolutely disgusting. How did Jacob stand it all that time? _I turned my attention to the male standing in the shadows next to the sniggering boy. His nose was wrinkled in distaste, at my apparent 'disgusting' stench. I mirrored him.

As if on a whim, the female sniffed loudly again and spoke.

"Why did you bring him here now?" she demanded of Jacob icily. She was speaking of me as if I was not in the room. But then she turned her head to look me straight in the eyes as she said, "He has no business with _us_."

Seven heads turned to stare at her. Incredulity was apparent on most of their faces, particularly the seated boy. I nearly snickered at her pathetic attempt to degrade me. I hadn't missed her emphasis on the word _us, _and could only interpret it as referring to the werewolf pack. That ancient vampire/werewolf enmity sprung up again, and I could feel the mutual hate electrifying the air between the female and I.

The male standing next to her tried to calm her.

"Leah, please..." he said in a low voice into her ear.

Leah, as he called her, tore her eyes away from me and turned to glare at the male.

"No, Sam! I want to know why he brought him here!" she cried, shaking her head.

Sam bent his head, rubbing his eyes wearily. There was no controlling her.

I heard Jacob sigh next to me.

"He can help us find Bella." His quiet voice rang with weariness and defeat, but again I had no idea where it was coming from.

The room was silent as everyone considered this claim, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. The boy next to the muscular one came out of the shadows a fraction, fixing me with a contemptuous look and muttering to himself.

"Do we even want his help?" he said quietly, to no one in particular. I'd heard him as if he was shouting in my ear, and clearly the sniggering boy had, too. He elbowed him in the ribs.

"Shut up, Jared."

Jared shot him a dirty look, massaging his ribs inconspicuously and frowning.

_Damn it! Quil's frigging muscles _hurt_! _I heard Jared think painfully, throwing angry glares in Quil's direction every so often.

Jacob remained stony faced. He stared at Jared and, from what I could gather from his thoughts, appeared as if he'd heard his remark, too.

"Actually, we _do _want his help," he said coldly. "He has...information."

"Information? About what?" asked the gangly boy next to Quil.

Jacob sighed wearily again. I looked at him, appraising his miserable features and slouched posture, and felt sorry for him again. My hand twitched stronger than before, but this time the urge did not frighten me as much as it had the last time. I realised I was beginning to respect Jacob – but it did not scare me.

I leaned over to him, conscious of Leah's following eyes as I did, and whispered in his ear:

"Perhaps I should take over? I think I can explain it better."

Jacob's head turned a fraction, and he stared at me with wide, curious eyes. It seemed he was as surprised by my helpful offer as I was. He nodded mutely.

I leaned away and turned to address the werewolves. I thought I would have gotten used to their stares of malice by now, but they still unsettled me now as they had before. I fidgeted a little with my jacket sleeve, and cleared my throat – though it did not need to be cleared. I tried to avoid Leah's glare as I spoke.

"Well, um...there is a group, a coven of my kind–"

"Leeches?" Leah interrupted. I could not avoid her eyes any longer, it seemed. I looked at her with contempt, as she was with me, and resisted the urge to silence her permanently.

I held her gaze as I replied.

"Vampires," I corrected coldly.

Leah scoffed mentally, before looking away pointedly and pretending to stare at the clock.

"Anyway," I continued awkwardly, "a member of this coven came one night and took Bella right in front of me. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I don't know exactly what they are doing to her, or where they are, but it is essential that we find her."

I paused to let them consider it. No doubt they would be unwilling to search for the wife of a member of their pack, at the insistence of her lover. I was determined to focus on the polished wood of the table, but Leah would not allow it.

_Why? _I heard her think importunately. _So you can continue your sick little affair with her? _

I stared at her incredulously, my golden eyes narrowing. She had stopped 'staring at the clock' and was now focusing on me. As soon as our gazes had met, her eyebrows had quirked and her mouth soured. Her thought had not quite been rhetorical, and I now wondered if she knew of my mind reading abilities. The question certainly suggested it, as did her expression. I chose not to challenge her, as I wanted to, but continued to stare at her with narrow eyes, feeling the hatred for the ignorant werewolf rise.

"And, how do you suppose we do this?" Sam's voice awoke me from my stupor. I hastily regained my composure and tore my eyes away from Leah, clearing my throat unnecessarily again. I sighed.

"I...I don't know," I murmured. I glanced to the left. "Jacob said you could help."

All seven pairs of eyes turned simultaneously to glare at Jacob. Jacob, who had been staring at his hands for a while, looked up innocently and met the angry eyes of his fellow pack. He raised his eyebrows, his expression turning defensive.

"Well, we can!" he cried, throwing a furtive glance in my direction.

Several of the others turned to exchange apprehensive looks; some even started whispered conversations. Sam only stared at Jacob with tight eyes, as if appraising him. Leah resumed her usual glaring at me.

I remained silent. I was very appreciative of Jacob defending me, but I wished he had not said anything. I realised, with insurmountable shock, that I didn't want the others to be angry with him for something _I _had suggested. Not only did my hand twitch then, but I wanted to defend Jacob.

Amongst all the whispered, private conversations that were occurring around me, the man that was standing next to Jacob leaned down to talk to him. He had an expression of extreme annoyance and bewilderment, and I could only feel that it was because of me. So quietly that no one else could hear it – except for me, of course – he whispered:

"Why so eager to help him, Jake? You know what he did to you, with Bella."

The contemptuous comment made by the werewolf I expected, but Jacob's reaction I did not.

He stared at the other with tight eyes for a long time, as if considering his statement. His thoughts were profound, filled with new emotions that were foreign and strange to him; he was struggling to understand them. He remained silent for a while, slowly coming to terms with himself, before flaring with irritation. His thoughts turned defensive, and so, too, did his words.

He leaned towards the male, his eyebrow furrowed, and hissed, "He's in _love _with her, you idiot. _That's _why."

I was so shocked that I had to stifle a gasp. I blinked rapidly.

_Jacob was defending me. _

It was too fantastic. I simply could not believe it. Never, ever, would I have imagined Jacob Black to be defending me against one of his own. And about his wife's affair, no less!

I realised that Jacob was finally coming to terms with the fact that Bella was in love with me, and that was never going to change – no matter how much he tried to persuade her otherwise. And not only that – as his thoughts revealed – but he was beginning to realise that it was time to let Bella go; to move on.

He was respecting me.

I was still frozen from the shock, so it took me a while to notice the male's glaring eyes upon me. I stared back at him for a while, but then averted my eyes. I didn't much care for angry werewolves anymore.

I did notice, however, Jacob addressing the rest of the pack.

"We have to do something," he said firmly, looking at Sam as he said this. He shifted uncomfortably and threw another furtive glance in my direction before adding softly, "For both of our sakes."

My shock only grew.

The apprehension among the group was almost tangible. Combined with the encompassing silence, it made for a very uncomfortable and anxious time. Everyone except for Leah had all but stopped glaring at me, and instead seemed to actually be considering my proposal. Several agonising seconds passed before Sam spoke, and the authority in his tone was unmistakable.

"We will follow her scent," he said with resolve. "Once we reach their nesting place, we'll ambush them and take Bella before she can get hurt. There are only four of them and nearly ten of us. We will not fail."

The room was deadly silent, but Leah's obstinacy was relentless – as usual. She opened her mouth to speak, but Sam gave her no chance.

"You will all do as you are told," he said firmly, staring straight at Leah as he spoke. Her lip twitched uncomfortably. Sam turned to address the whole of the group then, and prompted: "Understood?"

The full force of the Alpha position took control, and I could sense the obligation in every one of the werewolves' thoughts. Every one of them – even Leah – nodded; surrendering themselves. The Alpha's word was Law. It could not be disobeyed.

As soon as it had begun, it ended. The room seemed to revive; everyone started to move around and talk amongst themselves. The air was filled with sound of scraping chairs and low voices, and I thought I should join in the commotion. I looked at Jacob before getting up, tucking my chair in neatly before turning to him and asking what I was to do.

"Just follow Bella's scent, and stay with the pack," he replied, giving me a small smile. It felt strange to receive that sort of gesture from Jacob; and even stranger to return it.

I nodded in agreement, and followed the rest of the group outside. I expected the werewolves to start conferencing again, review their next move; but I was wrong. Before my eyes, the pack was beginning to transform from human to werewolf, each person erupting into a mass of fur and growling. I looked on uncomfortably, feeling the enmity between vampire and werewolf intensify now that the latter was in their true forms. I saw Leah – in the blink of an eye – sprout grey fur from every inch of her body. Her back arched, and her boy curved and lurched until she was on all fours, having also grown four legs and claws in the space of about a second. I thought she was big, but reconsidered my opinion when I saw the rest of the pack.

Sam, the Alpha, was now as tall as a horse, muscular, and with menacing, dagger-like incisors; he had a coat of black. Fierce growls ripped through his bared teeth every so often.

The gangly boy with the happy grin – whom I assumed was Leah's brother – was, surprisingly, also long and gangly as a werewolf. He was not bigger than Sam, but was still massive when compared to his human state. He had sand coloured fur.

The one that Jacob had defended me against was shuddering violently, his whole body rigid with trembling. So fast that I even had trouble getting it, I watched as he exploded into a mass of dark, silver fur, and grew bigger and bigger until he was a shape more than five times his size. He was enormous, crouched and growling violently.

Three other pack members changed almost simultaneously. The one called Quil exploded into a wolf the size of a small bear, his chocolate brown fur adding to this effect. His skinny friend had grey fur with dark spots on his back; he gave a monstrous growl after transforming. The third, Jared, changed a microsecond after he did.

And finally, as if my senses weren't being saturated enough, Jacob changed into his werewolf form. He transformed easily – much easier, it seemed, than the rest of the pack. Almost as massive as some of the pack's bigger wolves, Jacob had long, shaggy, russet coloured fur and wide, brown-black eyes that stared intently back into mine. Despite our apparent new-found respect for each other, as soon as he had changed, he threw a ferocious growl in my direction and flashed a row of sharp teeth. I eyed him wearily.

_Let's go. _

I heard Sam's thought, though it seemed like I'd heard the entire packs'. All of them turned towards the nearby forest and began following Sam, as if in unison. I was in awe as I watched them behave so jointly and yet entirely separate – so much so, that I forgot to follow them.

_Come on, Edward._

Jacob roused me from my trance; I had to make haste to keep up. I followed the rest of the pack, venturing further and further into the woods until we could not see the house anymore. I listened to the thoughts of the pack; completely separate, yet as one. There was so much strength and unity within the pack that I felt unwelcome – an intruder. I ambled along behind Jacob, keeping my senses alert for any trace of Bella's scent.

The darkness was encroaching as we continued to walk. I could not help but think of Bella the whole time, wondering where she was and what was happening to her. I would not allow myself to think of the nomads, however; such an act would surely drive me over the edge, and I didn't need that now. Not while I was so close to finding Bella.

Finally, after what seemed like hours of walking, I caught Bella's scent. I stopped walking, as did the werewolves. They seemed to notice the scent, too; we all lifted our heads and smelled the air, as if for confirmation. I needed no further convincing. I would recognise that smell anywhere – floral and sweet, freesia and honey. We stopped smelling for a moment, each member of the pack staring at me with a curious expression on their wolfy faces. They did not move.

I nodded.

The werewolf pack, in unison again, took off running through the forest. A cloud of dust billowed upwards in a spiral, in the wake of the wolves. I inhaled sharply at the incredible speed at which they were running – it was so fast that they were leaving me behind. Quickly, I followed them at a vampiric sprint, trying to keep up.

But they were faster than me.

Bella's scent only grew stronger as we ran north, out of the forest, through the town and towards Harvisham. Both I and the werewolves sensed how close we were to finding Bella, so the atmosphere was tense as we ran. It did not help that I could hear the werewolves arguing on how they were to destroy the vampires once we arrived.

We had been running for nearly an hour, when the scent became pungent; pungent, almost to the point of suffocating. I ran faster still, eager to get to Bella faster and destroy the nomads. I could almost feel the anticipation in the air as we ran, taste it on my tongue. We flashed past houses and tall buildings, until eventually reaching a blank expanse of land, leading up to a small shack sitting on a hill.

My first reaction was scepticism. It seemed extremely unlikely that a small, grubby shack sitting on a hill in full exposure would be the place where Bella was being held hostage. I turned to Jacob and was about to voice my doubts, but then I sucked in a breath – and the doubts disappeared. Bella's scent – so strong and sweet – filled me again, and I forgot what I was saying. It made me dizzy, and in my moment of euphoria I was certain. That horrible, tiny, dishevelled shack _had _to be where she was being held; otherwise her scent wouldn't be so pungent. There were also other smells, foreign ones, but undoubtedly the smells of vampires.

I shook my head to clear it and was about to ask Jacob for approval to move forward, when the thoughts of Victoria invaded my mind. I stood frozen, my mouth still hanging open as if I was going to speak to Jacob, listening.

_Tsk tsk tsk...naughty little Edward! _She was patronising me, her voice mocking and absolutely dripping with syrup. _Emmett _told _you not to come, didn't he? But no, you had to be mischievous, didn't you? _She laughed wickedly and her tone shifted. _Now your Isabella's going to pay._

And, true to her word, I heard the sickening _crack _of Bella's bone as Victoria broke her arm.

Bella's scream pierced the air, and we all heard it. Mine and Jacob's eyes widened and we both yelled – Jacob in thought and I aloud – in horror:

"_No!" _

Running as fast as my superhuman legs could take me, I charged at the shack on the hill, anger burning in my every pore. I heard the werewolf pack following me shortly after, their growls and barks echoing in the air. I didn't even realise I had crashed through the wall of the house, ripping it clean off, until I was inside and coated in a very fine layer of dust.

I stood amidst the wood and dirt, taking in the scene. James, I assumed, had been guarding the door when I'd crashed through it and was now laying in a pile of rubble at the very far end of the room, groaning as he tried to get up; I'd had no idea the impact would have had such severe consequences. Emmett was leaning against the wall opposite the one I'd destroyed, arms crossed and glaring. He still had nine fingers. In a corner stood Rosalie, looking frightened and worried, hugging herself around the chest as if she was cold. Though I was surprised to see her, I didn't bother with reading her thoughts. All of my attention was focused on the two people situated in the middle of the room.

Bella was tied to a rickety, wooden chair, one arm free and now hanging limp at her side after just having it broken. Her dress was filthy, the sleeves ripped; her hair fell over her shoulders, a few loose strands sticking to the thin sheen of sweat that covered her face and body. A river of tears flowed over her cheeks.

Victoria towered over her, hands tightened into claws at her sides. Her body was a tense, looming shape over Bella, her shock of red hair contrasting with her pale skin. She looked over her shoulder at me, glaring at me with the eyes of a cat. Her eyes flashed to Bella for a second, and then back to me – she smiled.

I roared.

At that moment, barks filled the air as the werewolf pack burst onto the scene, growling ferociously. Everyone in the room – including me – stiffened at the sudden intensity in the atmosphere. The nine of us and the four of the nomads glared at eachother from either side of the hovel, the silence penetrating. For a moment we just glared at one another, appraising the opposition with malice and contempt, and snarling.

And then the two sides exploded.

Sam, Quil, and the silver werewolf charged at James, and he lunged. They exploded into a mass of fur and growling, each side trying to rip the other apart. I heard James's roar of pain as a chunk of his torso was ripped off, and then Quil's whimper as he was kicked in the muzzle by James' heel.

I saw Victoria bare her teeth at me, before tackling Jacob to the ground and trying to break his neck. I feared for him, but fortunately, he sunk his teeth into her arm and pulled, sending her limb flying several metres behind her. She roared, and their fight accelerated into a mass of fur and red hair then.

Jared, Leah's brother, and the grey wolf sprinted towards the fight between James and the others. I thought they were going to help, but instead they weaved around them and sprinted through the hole in the wall, phasing back into their human form once they were outside. I was perplexed, but realised quickly what they were doing once they began gathering wood.

As the others started a fire to burn the pieces of vampire, Leah – the only remaining werewolf who wasn't doing anything – ran at Emmett and gave a vicious growl before leaping at him. Emmett snickered and dodged the attack with ease, running to the other side of the room in half a second. Leah fell into a crumpled heap amongst the rubble, whining.

I snarled and whirled round to face Emmett, but he was no longer there. I scanned the entire room, searching for any sign of his burly muscles, but there was none. I roared again, listening to the thoughts of the werewolves to see if they had any idea where he was. This, too, proved fruitless; Quil was swearing at the top of his lungs, Leah's brother was formulating his next move, and Sam was blaring orders to the rest of the pack.

And Rosalie was nowhere to be seen.

"E...Edward?" I heard Bella whimper.

My head snapped over to Bella, and I remembered that she was still tied to the chair. I was in front of her in less than a second, untying the ropes than bound her.

"Bella," I found, was the only thing I could say as I was freeing her. Despite the current situation, I felt oddly euphoric. The fact that I'd found Bella, alive and without bite marks on her neck, was more relieving than I could ever imagine. Not that it was pleasing to find her terrified beyond recognition and with a broken arm, but she was nevertheless alive and alright.

I was in the process of untying the ropes that bound her ankles, when Bella screamed. I looked up, concerned at her expression of terror, and opened my mouth to ask her what was wrong – but I never got the chance.

"Edward!" Bella cried in horror, then shrieked and hid her face in her hair – just as a hand closed around my throat.

My eyes bulged and my grip loosened on Bella's ropes. I coughed and clawed at the hand around my throat, clawing futilely at the iron grasp. I heard Emmett's booming laugh in my ear just before he threw me across the room, sending me crashing through the flimsy, wooden wall. My anger flared again, and I tried to get up from under the debris – but I was stopped again.

Victoria's red curls and James' devilish grin invaded my sight; somehow, they'd escaped their attackers. In moments, pairs of hands were holding me firmly down and rendering me useless. I struggled against their hands, kicking and thrashing squirming, but none of it helped. I was forced to watch helplessly as Emmett sauntered forward towards Bella, cracking his knuckles in preparation for what he was about to do. My panic increased.

"I want you to watch her die, Edward," Victoria hissed into my ear; her mordancy was penetrating. I didn't want to hear it. "I want you to hear her delightful little scream just before Emmett snaps her neck. I want to hear _your _scream when you realise it was your entire fault...:"

I roared, anger burning inside me. I saw Emmett grasp Bella's neck and I heard her scream, and begin crying again. Emmet laughed wickedly, and I heard Victoria giggle as she looked from Bella to me and saw the terror in our eyes. Emmett's muscles flexed as he prepared to break her neck, and I yelled.

"_No!" _

And then, as if in slow motion, another vampire crashed into Emmett and sent him flying through the air. Emmett landed a few metres away from me, and I heard the distinct sound of his leg snap as he did. Then, with blinding speed, the vampire ran to Emmett and landed on top of him, pinning him to the floor. The vampire's blonde, wavy hair fell in wild clumps on her shoulders.

I watched in utter shock as Rosalie's head and shoulders began to shake violently, accompanied by short, ragged gasps; as if she couldn't breathe properly. Her shoulders continued to shake and she continued to sob, and it was only until she bent her head down to whisper in Emmett's ear did I realise she was crying – or, rather, she _wanted _to cry.

"I love you," she whispered softly in his ear, though I caught it. She leaned away – still sitting on top of him – and gave a half-sob, half-laugh. Then, firmer – though still heartbreakingly fondly – she added, "You idiot..."

I was overcome with pity; literally a frozen statue under the arms of James and Victoria. Even _they _had frozen – their grasps on my body significantly weaker than before.

Rosalie's shoulders kept shaking pathetically. After one last sad smile and looking as if it was the hardest thing she ever had to do, Rosalie began to rip him apart. Her fierce growls that shuddered from her body did nothing to stay her dry sobs that interrupted them every so often, her quivering shoulders.

I was still overwhelmed by strong emotion, though I wasn't going to wait until Victoria and James recovered from what just happened and kill me. So, with a guttural roar, I kicked them off me with all the strength I could muster, sending James flying into the same pile of rubble he had before. Victoria fell backwards, smashing her head against a boulder. I called for Jacob, and he came straight to me with his teeth bared. We both agreed that I would take Victoria, and he would handle James; I smiled, pleased with the situation.

Jacob ran to James and in a matter of seconds I heard the very violent sounds of their fight. I snickered and tackled Victoria – who was trying to get up – and proceeded to break every part of her I could, enjoying myself much more than I should. Fuelled by anger and contempt, I punched and snapped and ripped and clawed at everything I could; I thrilled at the sounds of her demise.

Jacob sent me a thought to inform me he was finished with James. I smiled again, shocking myself at how easily it came to me, and told him aloud that I was done also. Jacob phased back to his human form, hastily putting on clothes that were tied to his ankle. I remained standing there and smiling at Jacob, when I saw Bella still sitting on the chair and crying. I looked over Jacob's shoulder, a crease forming between my eyes. I'd been so caught up in destroying the nomads that I'd forgotten Bella was still injured and alone. I kicked myself.

Jacob noticed the abrupt change in my expression and followed my gaze, peering over his shoulder. He saw Bella, and immediately his eyes widened. He turned back to me, and I heard him wonder if he should go over to her. He stared at me, silently imploring my acquiescence – I nodded. Though I hated the thought of Jacob and Bella together, the newfound respect we'd developed for eachother, and the urgent need for someone to attend to Bella meant that I could not possibly deny Jacob this.

So, I smiled at Jacob before he turned and ran to Bella's side.

I turned around, appraising the surrounding bodies and rubble that had been created in the wake of the mêlée. Everywhere, bits of vampire were strewn over the ground, covered in dirt from the numerous holes and cracks in the shack walls. The werewolves had all phased back into their human forms – thankfully, with clothes on – and were beginning the gruelling process of burning the vampire pieces. Already, a black plume of smoke was billowing upwards from the fire several metres in front of me. I saw Leah and Sam carrying the heads of Victoria and James, and Quil and Jared brandishing arms and legs and feet. I couldn't help but chuckle at their disgusted expressions.

My gaze moved over the rest of the werewolves, who were gathering more kindling for the ever growing fire, and onto Rosalie who was still lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, surrounded by pieces of Emmett. Her head was in her hands, and she still seemed to be 'crying'. I walked over to her, the pity growing in my stomach.

I joined her on the ground, but didn't risk patting her on the shoulder. She'd think it patronising, for sure, or at the very least awkward. I stayed with her and listened to her dry sobbing and soft whimpers, and felt an all encompassing guilt overwhelm me then. I almost wished Rosalie _hadn't _killed Emmett. But, before I could let my thoughts get carried away, I spoke.

"Rosalie?" I prompted gently, half-extending a hand. Rosalie lifted her head from her hands, squinting up at me as if she couldn't see me properly.

"Edward," she said, sounding surprised. She ran a hand over her eyes and through her hair.

I gave her a moment to compose herself as best she could.

"What are you doing here, Rosalie?" I asked softly, tightening my eyes. Rosalie shook her head.

"I...I don't know."

I sighed.

"This isn't you, Rosalie," I said, finding myself at a complete loss for words.

She did not respond. Despite the crackling sounds of the fire and the shrieks of disgust from the werewolves, there was absolute silence between Rosalie and me. In spite of my pity, I felt impatience at the fact that Rosalie wasn't saying anything. I needed answers.

"Tell me why," I said in a low voice. Rosalie avoided my eyes.

"Why what?" she countered, though her performance was unconvincing. I knew she knew what I was talking about.

"Why you joined a coven like that," I replied in the same low, firm voice. She met my gaze then, her eyes widening in disbelief.

"You think I don't hate myself, Edward? You think I wish I'd gotten caught up in it all, and not tried to stop it?" she cried, shock and hurt evident in her tone. "I hate it, Edward. _Hate it._" Her eyes fell to the ground again.

I let her have that. I wasn't going to start an argument with Rosalie now – not after what she'd just been through. But I still wasn't leaving here without some answers.

I hesitated this time, before daring to speak again.

"And why him?" I asked softly.

Was it the wrong thing to say? I thought so. Rosalie looked up slowly with hurt burning behind her eyes; the pity stabbed at my heart. I could see her in almost physical pain when she replied, as if it took a great effort to even speak of _him. _

Quietly, she began her excruciating explanation.

"I...I guess I found the...love I was missing from you" – I winced – "in Emmett..." she said, her eyes tightening. She did not continue on that subject, fully aware of the delicate nature of it – but rather spoke of Emmett as if he were still alive. "He was evil, I admit, but when I was with him...somehow I saw past all of that." She frowned suddenly. "I never participated in those awful killing sprees they went on, of course, but I still went with them wherever they did. I loved Emmett, and I thought I was doing the right thing by being with him..."

My pity only grew as I considered this. Poor, naïve Rosalie...I resisted patting her on the shoulder, just as I had with Jacob. Suddenly, she was not the vain, ignorant vampire I'd met two years ago and accepted grudgingly, nor was she the hurt and confused person who'd run away from home. She was a complete stranger.

I swallowed past a lump in my throat.

"And Bella? W–Why did you stop him from killing her?" I asked, ever so softly.

We both remained silent for a while, just looking into the other's eyes. It was a mutual fact that this question would guarantee an answer even harder to say than before, but we felt no desire to acknowledge this. I stared earnestly into Rosalie's butterscotch eyes, hoping she would receive my gratitude for what she did without me having to say it. I would, of course, tell her later, but for now I could not break the silence. That was for Rosalie to do, and in her own time.

Rose blinked.

"When I was with the nomads, I...I had time to think about what you did." Guilt joined the pity; a lethal combination. "I began to feel guilty about how I'd left you, leaving only that note" – incredulity, this time – "...I wanted to make it right again. And when they'd kidnapped Bella, I...I hated myself even more. Like _I _was the reason she was here, and not E-Emmett." Her voice quavered, but she went on. "I–I never wanted him to see you in the forest. I never wanted any of this..."

Rosalie blinked uncomfortably again, and I felt the urge to comfort her overwhelm me once more. But she wasn't finished yet.

She took several deep breaths and said, "When I realised Emmett was going to kill Bella, it was the last straw. I couldn't take anymore of the atrocities. So, even though I hated what you did to me, and even though I loved Emmett" – her voice broke and she closed her eyes – "...I had to kill him. It was the only way to stop him from killing anyone else."

I was in disbelief. The fact that Rosalie was able to actually _kill_ the one person she'd really fallen in love with was staggering. Admiration combined with the pity, guilt and incredulity, and I very nearly pulled Rosalie into an embrace; nearly.

The shock was evident in my voice.

"B-But you–"

"I know," Rosalie interjected, flashing a sad smile and looking to the floor again. "I loved him more than anything else, and it absolutely killed me to do what I did, but...I know it was for the best."

I couldn't hold it back any longer. I smiled at Rosalie and she smiled back, albeit a little more hesitantly. I stroked her cheek with my thumb and gave her a single kiss on the forehead.

"Thankyou, Rosalie," I said sincerely.

Rosalie gave another sad smile and a half-shrug.

"What are sisters for?"

I chuckled once.

Eventually, we both rose from the ground and I helped Rosalie brush the dirt and vampiric-fluids from her clothes, about which she was most annoyed. After that was done, we agreed that Emmett's body should be disposed of properly, to ensure that he was really dead. I noticed that, despite the sadness, there was resolve in her voice and her actions, and for this I could only congratulate her on. My admiration grew as I helped her gather the bits of vampire.

Once both of our arms were full of writhing body parts, we walked slowly together towards the fire, not saying much to each other. These moments of complete understanding and respect between Rosalie and I were seldom seen, so we both felt it proper not to ruin it. We reached the fire and were immediately greeted with suspicious and puzzled looks from the werewolves. Even Jacob sent me a thought and asked me what she was doing here; I dismissed his worries with a look.

Rosalie and I dumped the parts into the fire, and as soon as we did, a stench of what seemed like burning flesh and rubber was created. The cloud of smoke that was billowing upwards in thick, black clumps suddenly became bigger and denser, and I had to hold my breath. The surrounding werewolves, along with Rosalie and I all wrinkled our noses.

I eyed Rosalie wearily, conscious of the fact that she might break down into hysterical sobs any moment now. Burning the body parts of her true love that _she herself _had ripped from him would surely tamper with her sanity.

And, sure enough, in a matter of moments I heard the sounds of Rosalie's panting, ragged breath that shuddered from her at random intervals. I turned my head to look at her with poignant eyes, knowing that I could no nothing that would comfort her and take the pain away from her actions. I kept my hand deep in my pocket, to control my urge.

Rosalie stared at the fire, watching the pieces of Emmett blacken and shrivel, until they were indistinguishable against the charred wood and other body parts.

"Goodbye, Emmett," she whispered.

Her shoulders did not stop shaking.


	9. Siblings

**Bella's POV.**

Jacob's hands were gentle as he supported me on his shoulder. My arm still hurt, and even though I tried to block out the pain, my efforts were in vain. I scrunched my eyes closed and concentrated on my breathing, allowing Jacob to lead me out of the rubble. I stumbled down the hill, determined to get back to the rest of the werewolves. I twisted my arm without meaning to, and instantly felt a searing pain shoot up my arm.

"Oh!" I gasped, and I felt grass under my knees.

Jacob tried to steady me, clutching at my hand and shoulder and trying to help me stand. But my fingers slipped out of his grasp, and I collapsed to the floor.

"Bella?" I heard Jacob's anxious voice. "Are you alright?"

"I – I'm fine," I gasped, pressing a hand gingerly to my broken arm. I sat up, forming a cross legged position. "I...I just need to sit down for a little bit."

I could hear the uncertainty in my voice, and was sure Jacob could, too – but I didn't want to seem weak. I looked up at Jacob and noticed him looking anxiously at Edward, who had his back to us and was speaking with Rosalie. Jake's eyes darted back and forth from me to Edward, and I could see where his thoughts were.

"No, Jake...it's fine, really. I don't want Edward to worry." Jacob narrowed his eyes. "Just...just sit with me for a little bit," I pleaded in a ragged whisper, closing my eyes again.

I heard Jacob's resigned sigh. "Okay."

I rested my head on his chest and tried to concentrate on the sound of Jacob's breathing, and not on the pain that was prickling in my left arm. My thoughts were still jumbled and I was still reeling from the ordeal I had just endured, so I was able to keep my mind occupied while the ache subsided. I couldn't stop thinking about the anxious look Jacob had given Edward, and I now wondered on just how close they had become. Only a few weeks ago, they would have ripped eachother to pieces; had there been a chance to.

_And there _were_ chances, _I realised suddenly. Countless times while I had been missing, they had been alone together and managed to refrain from killing each other. I shuddered at what effort that must have taken them both – especially Jacob – and then again when I realised it was my fault.

"Jacob?" I prompted quietly, breaking the tranquillity.

"Mmm?"

"I'm sorry."

I felt Jacob's muscles tense underneath my shoulder.

"For what, Bells?"

"For...you know...having that affair and everything. I didn't mean for it to happen, and I can't help but feel guilty for it." I fidgeted uncomfortably with my dress as I spoke. "If it hadn't, we might not be in this mess."

Jacob was silent for a moment, but then I felt his chest heave and fall as he sighed wearily.

"I know, Bella. I'm sorry, too."

I sat up instantly, ignoring the throbbing in my arm and stared at Jacob with incredulous eyes. He stared right back, his brow furrowed.

"Why are _you _sorry?" I demanded, shock evident in my tone.

"Because I couldn't be the husband that you wanted, that you needed," he replied, averting his eyes and focusing on the back of Edward's head again. "I should have expected you would fall for someone else..."

My mouth opened in horror. _Jacob _was feeling guilty about _my _affair? I struggled to make sense of it.

"Jacob! How can you blame yourself for something _I _did?" Jake looked back at me at these words, and shrugged nonchalantly.

"How can I not? If our marriage wasn't so loveless and so straining for you, then maybe all of this wouldn't have happened. If you were with someone you really loved, then–"

"I _do _love you, Jacob," I interrupted firmly. _How could he be saying such things?_ I wondered in disbelief.

Jacob scoffed and gave a half-smile.

"As much as you love him?" he asked, and jerked his thumb towards Edward.

I hoped the question was rhetorical. Sure, I loved Jacob – he was my husband, after all – but compared to Edward...

I looked down and began fidgeting with my dress again. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jacob smile sadly.

After a few more minutes of uncomfortable silence, I lay down again and rested my head once more on Jacob's chest. It struck me then how comfortable and amiable Jacob was with Edward now. He no longer wanted to hurt him, and whenever he spoke of him now there was no bitter edge to his tone. It was as if they were old friends.

"Since when did you and Edward become such good friends?" I asked with humour in my voice. "I thought you hated each other..."

Jacob laughed softly. "I did, at first. I saw what he was doing to you, how he was taking you away from me – and I didn't like it at all. But once I got to know him, I realised he just had your best interests in mind." Jacob stopped for a moment, scratching his nose thoughtfully. Then:

"He makes you happy, Bella. I know that now. And if you're happy, then I'm happy." He smiled his boyish smile.

Jacob's words sunk in, and in seconds I felt the hot tears prickling behind my eyes, threatening to spill over. I sniffed loudly and smiled sincerely, unable to form words that would suffice my gratitude. Jacob smiled back.

"So, what are we going to do now?" I asked. Jacob had been staring thoughtfully at his werewolf pack in the distance, but turned to look at me as soon as I had spoken. He frowned.

"Well...I suppose you'll go back to Edward; your family." He looked straight into my eyes. "And I'll go back to mine."

I felt a surge of guilt when I realised Jacob was going to be returning home, alone. I'd been so caught up in the fact that I was finally with Edward that I didn't think at all about what would happen to Jacob once this was over. Now that I was here in front of him, his boyish face dented with his frown, eyes melancholy, I was truly able to recognise the extent of my own regret.

"Tell...tell everyone I'll miss them," I said in a thick voice, my eyes boring into Jacob's pleadingly. "And that I'm so sorry, for everything..."

Jacob smiled, though for once it looked like it took him great effort.

"I will."

His face fell, however, when he saw my still worried expression.

"Don't worry, Bella. I'll make them understand," he said soothingly. Every syllable rang with promise.

I could relax, finally. I lay my head down again on Jacob's chest, sighing wearily and feeling another stab of pain in my arm. I winced, and Jake's hand immediately flew to my injury, but I didn't want any help. I took his hand that was suspended limply in the air with my good one, and held it close to me, letting his heat warm my body. I sighed again.

"Thankyou, Jake."

_____________________________*********************************************_____________________________________________

I could feel my heartbeat in my ears, strong and intrusive as I walked hand in hand with Edward up the small flight of steps leading to the wooden double doors of his house. Edward obviously heard my frantic pulse, too, because his thumb rubbed soothing circles into my hand every so often.

Rosalie was still at the site of the battle, as she needed "a few more minutes to say goodbye to Emmett". I couldn't blame her. It had been nagging me for hours, an obnoxious little voice in my head; telling me that _I _was to blame for the despair that had befallen Rosalie. It was silly to entertain such notions, I knew, but I couldn't shake the horrible feeling.

We reached the door and hadn't even gotten it all the way open, when Edward's parents were suddenly standing in the doorway. I looked at Edward, startled by their abrupt appearance, but he looked as though he'd been expecting it. Of course.

"Edward!" exclaimed the female. She rushed forward to embrace him, and I could see Dr. Cullen standing behind, staring intently at his son. Edward was staring back just as intently over his mother's shoulder.

I observed the silent conversation in both awe and unease; I didn't know what to do now that I'd met Edward's parents.

I realised suddenly that Edward had his arm around me again, and Dr. Cullen and his wife were staring at me, their butterscotch eyes gentle and curious.

"Trust me, Esme, we're fine," Edward said suddenly, obviously answering an unspoken question from his mother. Then, as if answering another one, he gestured to me and said, "This is Bella Swan."

Esme beamed at me and said gently, "Hello, dear." Dr. Cullen smiled warmly and nodded.

"Hi," I replied, painfully aware of how shaky my voice sounded. Edward immediately resumed the rubbing of my hand.

Dr. Cullen furrowed his perfect brow and gestured to my twice-broken arm. As if in acknowledgement, another throb of pain shot up my arm, and I winced.

"It seems you've been through quite a bit, Bella," he said, looking at Edward fleetingly.

"Oh, yes," I replied, fingering the wound gingerly.

"Here, I'll take a look at it," he said, and gestured to the right. He wanted me to follow him. I muttered my thanks and let him lead me into a brightly lit, wooden space; the kitchen. I couldn't think now about why a family of vampires had a kitchen, so I let him offer me a chair and begin examining my injuries.

Edward and Esme followed behind, immediately conjuring up a conversation that was so fast it sounded like a whole other language. I caught a few words – "killed" and "nomads" and "werewolves" – but I couldn't focus properly. I felt light headed and nauseous, as if someone had knocked the wind out of me. Dr. Cullen joined in the conversation sometimes; though I never saw his eyes leave my arm. His hands were a blur of metal instruments and bandages and scissors, and before I knew it my entire arm was in a thick, white cast and he was packing his things away into a blue bag. The cast felt itchy and the pain still remained, though apart from that I was only amazed at the rapidity he'd completed the task.

Edward and Esme had stopped talking and I presumed Edward had finished recounting everything that had happened, to his parents. He now stood leaning against a chair, his features twisted into a look of worry. As soon as I glimpsed his face, pain shot up my now-bandaged arm again.

Dr. Cullen seemed to notice.

"Here, these will help with the pain," he said, and handed me a small bottle of painkillers. I took them eagerly.

"Thankyou," I murmured, and he smiled.

"Thankyou, Carlisle," I heard Edward say from next to me. I looked up to see Edward having another silent conversation with his father. "I think I'll take Bella upstairs and let her rest."

Obviously, he was saying this aloud for my benefit. I resisted a smile and let Edward help me up. Both Carlisle and Esme expressed their agreement with the idea, so I carefully hoisted myself onto Edward's back and let him take me upstairs in half a second. We stopped on the landing and I eased myself off his back, just as the front door opened.

"Rosalie," Edward murmured. We both looked down on the lower floor and, sure enough, a head of blonde hair strode into the hallway and was immediately enveloped by embraces from Esme. We stood watching until they disappeared from view.

_____________________________*********************************************_____________________________________________

I closed my eyes and enjoyed the silence; something I hadn't experienced in a long time. Edward's bedroom was light and spacious, with soft rugs and cushions littering the floor. A tall bookcase covered literally all of one wall, and a CD case covered another. We both sat cross legged on a bed of cushions, Edward with his arms behind his head, motionless; and I with my head resting on Edward's marble chest. The cool felt soothing.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Edward's pale face twist into a thoughtful frown.

"There's something that's been bothering me for quite a while now..." he said absently, still frowning. I asked him what it was, and his frown deepened. "Where were you in that week you didn't come and see me?"

I considered his question for a moment, trying to remember back to the time when Jacob had forbade me from coming to see Edward; the pain of my arm didn't help with the reminiscing. I didn't like remembering those times, as all they brought were unpleasant memories. I glanced up at Edward's face and saw him still frowning, staring at me expectantly. For once, I was glad he couldn't read my mind.

"Oh, that," I said, attempting nonchalance. "Jacob tried to keep me away from you, and he went to great lengths to make sure we never got in contact with each other. He monitored my calls my letters – he even had someone go with me whenever I went out somewhere. I couldn't get away long enough to see you.

"But then one day he was busy with something – I can't remember what. I told him I was going for a walk and that no one needed to go with me, as it was only a few metres up the road. He agreed, miraculously, and that's how I got away." I hoped I sounded casual.

Edward made a thoughtful sound, and I looked up to see his frown replaced with a slight smile.

"I knew something was amiss," he said, half-triumphant, half-thoughtful. "All these strangers were coming to the store, purchasing Jacob's medicine instead of you."

I laughed. Jacob's little messengers were the lowest form of keeping me from Edward he'd thought of. I'd watched in disbelief as he sent them – first Mike, then Angela, and Jess – one after the other for a whole week, until finally he'd run out of couriers and he had to go himself. It was truly pathetic.

Edward didn't join in my amusement. The frown returned to his face.

"There was one in particular, Mike something... He was blonde, very pale and very scared. I felt sorry for him."

My face fell when I heard Mike's name. I looked down, hiding my eyes as another torrent of unsettling memories came. Edward seemed to notice my distress and immediately began stroking my hair; he didn't prompt me, though.

"Yes," I began, smiling sadly. I supposed it was alright to let Edward hear the story, even though it hadn't been spoken of for years. "He's never been the same since the incident two years ago."

"What incident?"

I sighed, and the memories became more vivid, more unpleasant. Slowly, I began:

"Mike's been our butler for ages, ever since my parents bought us a house all those years ago. He didn't know about the werewolf pack, and we intended to keep it that way.

But then one day, Jacob got angry at Sam, very angry. He loses his temper easily, and it's hard to calm him down once he does. He kept shouting, louder and louder, and I suppose Mike came around to see what everyone was yelling about." I swallowed, and felt a lump in my throat. "He...he came into the room just as Jacob was phasing and, well...it scared him half to death. Never been the same since. He's always looking over his shoulder and shaking."

The final sentence hung in the air and destroyed the calm atmosphere that was present before.

"That's horrible," Edward said softly, still stroking my hair. I nodded.

We lapsed back into silence, and it was a while before the memories began to fade away. When they finally did, however, I heaved a sigh and closed my eyes again, concentrating on the rhythmic _whoosh _of air as Edward inhaled and exhaled unnecessarily.

"You know," Edward began rather cheerfully; obviously trying to cheer me up, "I thought you were a werewolf when I first saw you." My eyes flew open. Edward was smiling down at me, like some divine angel. He wrinkled his nose. "That smell..." He trailed off and shuddered.

I sat up and felt his body stiffen as I made another one of my sudden, irrational movements. I gave him an apologetic look before frowning and considering what he'd just said.

_A werewolf? _I thought in disbelief. _How on Earth could he have mistaken me for a werewolf? _And then, because it was so utterly ridiculous, I burst out laughing.

Edward joined in my mirth, though not as heartily as I was.

"You thought I was a werewolf?" I asked in gasps through the laughter.

"I did," Edward replied when my amusement had subsided to a chuckle. He smiled. "Although, when I smelt Jacob I knew it was just his scent transferring onto you."

After I'd gotten over the hilarity of the idea, I sat in silence again and considered Edward's statement more deeply. The fact that he'd thought I was a werewolf was laughable, sure, but it also drew attention to the reality that I would never, _ever, _want to be a werewolf, like Jacob and the rest of the pack were. Even though it was physically impossible for me to be one, since I had to be born with wolf DNA for that to work, I still shuddered just thinking about it. I looked at Edward, who was lying perfectly still and staring into space, and frowned.

"I would never, ever want to be a werewolf," I said in a low voice. Edward came alive, his head twisting to face me and a look of curiosity returning to his face. I continued, surprisingly serious, "If I was, it would mean that I was bound to Jacob in a way that was much stronger than marriage or friendship. And, coupled with the fact that I didn't love him in any way other than platonically, it would be just..." I stopped short, unable to complete the sentence. Edward frowned, and I could see he'd stopped breathing.

The silence became uncomfortable. My little rant had made not only myself, but Edward, tense. I made myself cease dwelling on werewolves and turn my attention onto other things. Happier things. And it was then, in the midst of the uncomfortable silence that I thought of the happiest thing of all.

I looked down, afraid to say what I wanted to for fear of Edward's reaction. I didn't know what his thoughts were on the subject, but I had an inkling that it wasn't going to be in my favour. But it was what I truly wanted, what made me happy – and how could he say no to that?

I took a deep breath.

"What if..." I began, looking up slowly, timidly. Edward's expectant eyes were on me, his butterscotch irises locked on my brown. I caught my breath, momentarily forgetting what I was going to say. I tore my eyes away and focused on the carpet, trying to regain a rhythmic breathing pattern. "What if...what if I was a vampire?"

The entire atmosphere in the room shifted from tranquil to overwrought in a matter of seconds. I refused to look up. I didn't want to see Edward's face, dreading the possibility of his livid expression. But more and more minutes passed and no one had spoken yet, so I tentatively raised my head and met his eyes.

He was not angry, as I thought he might be. On the contrary, his face held nothing but stoicism and emptiness. I was surprised, as I thought he would have shown some sort of emotion at my statement. But there was nothing.

Edward's eyes shifted from mine to a spot above my head. He was avoiding my gaze, clearly, though I didn't know why.

"I don't understand what you mean," he said, his voice hard and monotonous. I rolled my eyes mentally. Of course Edward knew what I meant; otherwise he wouldn't be acting this way. But I didn't want to encourage his foul mood, so I played along.

"What I mean," I began, as if I was speaking to a small child, "is...what if I was bound to _you_, in the strongest way possible?"

Edward remained silent. I shifted uncomfortably, afraid I'd upset him again. But after a few minutes his eyes moved back to meet mine and he frowned thoughtfully, clearly considering something. He sighed heavily and his delicious scent blew in my face, making me dizzy. I tried to focus as he spoke.

"I'll say yes," he said slowly, and I was jubilant until I realised he wasn't finished. He smiled and continued, "...but only if you agree to me, first."

I was puzzled as to what he meant, and was about to ask him when he took my hands in both of his and I lost track of thought.

"I–I don't under–" I began, but stopped when I saw Edward's expression. He was about to say something very, very important – that much was certain. I succumbed to his gaze and let him speak.

"I love you, Isabella Swan," he said softly. I could feel my heartbeat in my throat as he leaned in and said, his voice like honey, "Will you marry me?"

I'd lost the ability to breathe. The room spun and my limbs felt weak. There was only Edward; sitting opposite me and holding my hands in his cold ones, a smile playing around the edges of his lips as he waited patiently for my answer. He'd be waiting for a while, considering the state I was currently in. I couldn't form coherent thought, couldn't breathe properly – let alone tell Edward whether or not I wanted to marry him. When I'd known I wanted to be with Edward forever, I'd meant it literally – marriage never even crossed my mind. I couldn't get used to the idea, no matter how many times I mulled it over.

"A–Are you serious?" I managed to stammer, my eyes bulging. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself, but this proved ineffective, since all I could smell was Edward's dizzying scent.

Edward remained unbelievably calm.

"I am perfectly serious."

Still, I couldn't breathe. If it weren't for Edward's hands clasping mine, grounding me, I would have fainted ages ago. My mind kept telling me that the answer should be obvious, that I didn't need to think about it at all – but my body claimed otherwise. The initial shock still hadn't worn off.

"I d-don't...I mean, I do, but I just don't u-understand why y-you–" I continued to stammer, my words reflecting my thoughts, when Edward pressed a cool finger to my lips.

"Bella," he said clearly, smiling slightly, "do you want to marry me or not?"

"I – well of course I do, but–"

"So you're saying yes?" he prompted again, eyebrows raised in expectation.

I sat, breathing heavily and staring into Edward's bright, ochre eyes and realised that I didn't have to think about it anymore. The answer was clear.

"Y–Yes," I said, feeling my lips curl into an involuntary smile as I said it. I nodded, repeating the word over and over again, until Edward's lips were on mine and I was silenced.

It was utterly blissful. I let happiness envelop me until I couldn't think anymore. I curled my hand around Edward's, until our fingers were intertwined. It struck me now that he was not objecting to my advances, not pulling away for fear of crossing a boundary and hurting me. I wasn't complaining.

Finally, it ended. Edward leaned away to see my expression, and I grinned so widely it hurt my cheeks. He smiled his dazzling smile, and I lost my breath again.

"Now, I don't have a ring," he said, but then brightened as he remembered something, "but I do have_ this_." And as he said it, from inside his pocket he withdrew what looked like a silver rope. I looked closer, squinting to see it better, and then gasped. I'd know those pearls, that silver, anywhere. It was my necklace.

"You still have that?" I asked in disbelief, reaching out to touch the sparkling letter gently. I looked at Edward, wide-eyed, and he smiled.

"Of course," he said casually, and proceeded to put in on me. I let him, delighting at the cool fel of the metal and his skin against mine. I thanked him and he kissed my forehead.

"Wait a minute..." I said suddenly, remembering our previous conversation before all of this. "Does this mean you'll turn me into a vampire? Now that I've agreed to you?"

Edward was not happy that I'd brought up the subject again; he frowned. But there was no silencing me this time. Proposal or no proposal – I was going to become a vampire.

"I suppose it does, yes..." – his frown deepened – "but let's talk about it later."

I didn't want that. Edward had agreed that if I acquiesced to his proposal then he would to mine. And now he was trying to avoid the conversation.

"Why can't we talk about it now?" I asked, refusing to back down. Edward's obstinacy was ruining my mood.

He sighed heavily.

"Because these things take time, Bella. I don't want to rush into anything. And," he added, sensing that I was going to interrupt again, "I'm needed downstairs. Carlisle and Esme heard and want to express their congratulations."

I opened my mouth to protest, but Edward wouldn't let me. He rose fluidly to his feet and was at the door before I could blink.

"I'll be right back," he said, and then he went around the corner out of view.

I groaned in exasperation and got up also, vowing that the matter wasn't over yet, and that I would make him listen. I straightened the cushions and went over to a comfortable looking couch next to the enormous bookcase. I flopped down onto it, exhausted, and was about to close my eyes when a figure standing in the doorway caught my eye.

It was Rosalie.

"Can I talk to you for a moment, Bella?" she asked, oddly polite.

"Sure," I said, making my voice high and light to mask my surprise.

Rosalie crossed the room in a matter of seconds, sitting down beside me without invitation. She scrutinised my face for a while, saying nothing; I felt slightly uncomfortable under her gaze, but I didn't want to say anything because, truthfully – I was intimidated by her. So I let her analyse me, her golden eyes wide and piercing, until she finally spoke.

"Are you okay, Bella?" she asked finally, glancing at my cast for a split second.

I hesitated, taken aback slightly.

"Y–Yeah, I'm fine – thanks to you. You saved my life."

She smiled sadly. I realised suddenly what my answer had caused her to remember, and I was instantly regretful.

"I–I'm sorry," I said awkwardly, feeling myself go red. "About Emmett, I...it's my entire fault. If I hadn't gotten involved, then none of this would have happened and you never would have had to kill him, and I just–"

"Bella," Rosalie interjected gently. I stopped talking immediately, swallowing hard and feeling a lump in my throat. I forced myself to meet her eyes, and saw that they were filled with sadness – though I could see her attempt to hide it. "It's okay. I killed Emmett" – her jaw tightened – "for my brother, for Edward. If I'd let my lover kill my little sister, he would have been devastated. What kind of person would that make me?"

My eyes widened in shock and disbelief. Had Rosalie just referred to me as her _sister_? It was too much. I couldn't form a coherent sentence until a few minutes later, and even then my head was still swimming.

"I–I'm your _sister_?" I said sceptically.

Rosalie smiled at my reaction, and touched a finger to the pendant on my necklace.

"You are now."

I looked down at her finger, still touching my necklace, and then back to Rosalie. Her words sunk in, and I managed a small smile. I felt honoured that she considered me her sister. She smiled wider and got to her feet, congratulating me as she did. I thanked her, but did not stand up.

She walked at a human pace to the door, but stopped in the doorway and turned around to face me again. Her expression was hesitant.

"Can I tell you something, Bella?" she asked, so fast I nearly didn't catch the words. I nodded.

She sighed and said thoughtfully, "I don't blame you for falling in love with Edward. I'd known something was amiss in the two years we'd been together, so I couldn't possibly have hated either of you – it would have been hypocritical of me." She smiled sadly as I'm sure she was thinking of Emmett. But then her expression lifted and she said sincerely, "I hope you two are very happy together."

I smiled, touched by her words. I knew it would have been a very hard thing for Rosalie to do, so I was deeply grateful that she'd made the effort to be kind to me. I nodded once.

"Thankyou," I said, just as sincerely.

Rosalie nodded and gave me one last, fleeting look before leaving. Happily, I watched as my sister disappeared around the corner.

P.S: Forever.

*Don't worry if you don't understand the above statement - it's a personal joke. =)*

Review, if you like. Cheers! xx


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